Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Izuku Midoriya wanted to be a hero more than anyone else. He really did. He had the heart, the will, the smarts, the natural genius and talent. But there was one problem, however: He was quirkless. And thus, people would tend to overlook his hidden talents and untapped potential.

But nonetheless, he was determined to not let his condition get in his way and define him. Even if he was scorned, shunned away, bullied, mocked, ridiculed, put down and pushed around for his heroic dream, Izuku would grit his teeth and face forward. He would be relentless in the pursuit of his heroic dream, carrying on a willful spirit. But like any other spirit, if you beat it down long and hard enough, they too...can break.

And to say that Izuku Midoriya had a bad life would be an understatement. Ever since he was quirkless, it appeared that everything good in his life that made him safe, happy and welcome took a big nose dive. His dad left him, his mother basically stopped caring for him, friends started turning into enemies, and his childhood friend turned into his bully and tormentor for the rest of his life after Izuku turned four years old. It's as if god himself said 'Yep, those 4 years of your life would be the only time that you'd be happy. Now enjoy hell for the rest of your life!'

But Izuku wasn't going to let that happen. He will be going to be a hero, he will fulfill his dreams and ambitions, and he will be actually happy! He was determined to find some kind of meaningful purpose for his life. He will prove his worth! He will!...right?

As Izuku Midoriya sat in his homeroom class at Aldera Junior High, the noise around him was deafening. Quirk use, loud and disruptive behavior were the norm in the classroom, and the teacher didn't care one bit. Flames crackled from one student's hands, another's skin hardened like stone, and a third grew extra limbs, all adding to the cacophony. Izuku kept his head down, scribbling in his notebook, trying to focus on anything other than the chaos around him.

His notebook was his sanctuary, filled with detailed notes on quirks, hero strategies, and even rough sketches of inventions he'd dreamt up. Though he knew he'd never use a quirk himself, he couldn't help but analyze the ones he saw, jotting down weaknesses and potential counters. His inventive mind was always at work, even in the most distracting environments.

But as he wrote, a flicker of doubt crossed his mind. What's the point? he wondered, staring at the page. No one cares about what I can do. The notebook had become a testament to his loneliness, filled with thoughts and ideas he'd never get to share.

Eventually, when the teacher entered and pulled out the career forms, the buzz died down.

"Now then! You're all third years, so it's time for you all to start thinking seriously about your futures!" The teacher announced, looking through the forms in his hand. "Normally, I would hand out these career forms. However..." He then threw the papers in the air with a flourish. "I know you all want to be heroes!"

There was a great uproar from the rest of the class. Flamethrower arms were lit, skins were hardening, muscles were growing eyeballs, and fingers and necks were extending. In the midst of the chaos sat a spiky-haired blonde with a cocksure grin, lounging lazily in his chair with his feet kicked up on his desk.

"Come on, teach! Don't lump me in with the rest of these extras!" Katsuki Bakugou arrogantly bragged, hands in his pockets. The rest of the class turned its ire on him, but he responded with equal disdain. He then went on a flaunting tirade about how he was going to be the number one hero, surpassing even All Might.

Izuku clenched his pencil tighter, his hand trembling slightly. His eyes flicked from his notebook to Bakugou, and then back again. Kacchan, he thought, his chest tightening. Once, they had been friends-Izuku had admired him, even looked up to him. But now, Bakugou was just another reminder of everything Izuku wasn't and could never be.

The teacher chuckled at Bakugou's bravado, not bothering to rein in the chaos. "Yes, yes, Bakugou, you've certainly got the talent. But remember, it takes more than just a strong quirk to be a hero."

Izuku felt a pang of bitterness. What about those of us without a quirk? he thought. But he didn't say it out loud. He never did. Instead, he lowered his head further, hoping to disappear into his notebook, his mind whirring with ideas that would never see the light of day.

The class's chaos quickly silenced when the teacher offhandedly mentioned, "Oh yes, Midoriya. You applied for U.A as well, didn't you?"

Everyone immediately froze, their eyes zeroing in on the nervous green-haired boy who flinched at the unwanted attention.

"Pfft! HAHAHAHAHA!!!"
"HAHAHAHA!"
"Midoriya?! Ha! You're kidding, right? There's no way he's getting into the hero course without a Quirk!"

The entire classroom burst into ridiculing, disbelieving laughter. Izuku, trying to muster some courage, stammered, "Actually! They got rid of that rule! I could be the first one!"

His words were met with more laughter, and Bakugou exploded his desk, throwing Izuku to the floor.

"Still?! After all this time, you're still trying to compete with me? Wake up and realize how worthless you are, Deku!" Bakugou growled, approaching him with eyes blazing in fury. Izuku began crawling back to the wall behind him in fear, pitifully trying to calm the angrier boy.

"Listen up, Deku! You're even worse than the rest of these damn rejects, you Quirkless wannabe!" Bakugou snarled, his hands sparking with his Quirk. The school bell rang, preventing things from escalating further, and the teacher finally decided to step in and try to calm the class down.

"Alright, class. Settle down, the bell just rang. And Midoriya, clean up your desk afterward," the teacher ordered, not caring that Izuku had just been attacked. Izuku, his head hung low, replied in a monotone voice, "Yes, sir."

His hands shook slightly from how hard he was clenching them. As he got up, he tried his best to hide his anger and frustration at the unfair treatment he received every day.

The school day went on... normally, if that was what one could call Izuku's life situation. Being a social pariah was not a pleasant experience. But Izuku's determination to fulfill his dream remained steadfast. While everyone else began packing up their things and leaving after the school day had ended, Izuku stayed behind. He was discreetly making some final touches on his very first invention inside his bag: his freeze ray, something he had been building since he was seven. If going to the hero course through the normal exam didn't work, then he would do so from the support course.

From the corner of his eye, Izuku saw Bakugou and his lackeys approaching. Quickly, he zipped up his bag and began acting like he was about to leave. Unfortunately, they caught up to him first. Aside from Bakugou, Izuku hadn't bothered to learn the names of his two 'extras' that were always by his side. So, Izuku opted to just call them 'Minion #1' and 'Minion #2'.

"Hey, Midoriya. What's the rush?" Minion #1 called out. "Yeah. It's not like you have anyone to hang out with," Minion #2 followed up.

Izuku stuttered, trying to explain himself and get out of this situation. "I-I was just-"

But before he could finish, Bakugou quickly snatched Izuku's notebook from his hands and read it out loud, "'Hero Quirk Analysis no. 13'? Why do you even have this shit? You should know by now that a Quirkless bastard like you could never be a hero!" The arrogant blonde sneered, watching Izuku flail in a desperate attempt to get his notebook back.

"I-I can still be a hero! Now give it back!" Izuku pleaded, his voice shaky but determined.

"You can't get accepted into the hero course just by studying, Midoriya," Minion #2 said bluntly as Minion #1 laughed at the absurd idea of Izuku applying for the hero course. Eventually, Bakugou lowered his arm and pretended to hand Izuku his notebook back.

"Fine. You want it so bad? Here you go."

Izuku almost looked hopeful. However, as he reached out to grab his notebook, Bakugou used his explosive Quirk to fry the notebook, sending a wave of fear through Izuku. The charred remains of the notebook were then thrown out the window. Bakugou placed a hand on Izuku's shoulder, smoke emanating from his palm and lightly burning the green-haired boy.

"Listen here and listen closely: Don't even think about applying to U.A., Deku," Bakugou threatened, his voice low and menacing. Izuku could do nothing but meekly nod in fear.

After ensuring the threat was understood, Bakugou and his minions turned to leave. But not before Bakugou delivered one final blow. "You know, if you want to be a hero that badly, here's an advice: Why don't you take a swan dive off a roof and pray for a Quirk in your next life!"

Bakugou and his two minions laughed cruelly as they exited the classroom. Izuku stood motionlessly, his eyes darkening and his fists clenched tightly. There was a certain glimmer in his eyes after Bakugou's parting words. He snapped his head around, expecting Bakugou and his two minions to still be standing by the door, but they had already left.

Izuku was incredibly tempted to use his freeze ray on him right then and there. To freeze him for eternity and make him suffer for everything he had done to him or use him as his lab rat to test his many other deadly inventions on. In fact, Izuku was already thinking about building an invention that would take away Bakugou's Quirk permanently since he loved it so much. A small, devious smile subconsciously formed upon his lips. Should he?

The thought was intoxicating. The idea of making Bakugou powerless, of showing him what it felt like to be stripped of everything, made Izuku's heart race. To be the one on the other end of the stick for once! But then, he caught his reflection in the window. The dark look in his eyes, the twisted smile-it wasn't him. It wasn't the hero he aspired to be.

He shook his head and unclenched his fists, forcing himself to calm down. 'Alright, calm down, Izuku. Heroes don't think about revenge,' he reminded himself, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. He couldn't let thoughts like that consume him, not when he still had a dream to chase.

Izuku gathered his things and left the classroom, the weight of Bakugou's words still pressing heavily on his mind. After retrieving his fried notebook from a fish pond, Izuku began to walk home from school in a dampened mood. He was having a bad, bad day, but he tried to keep his spirits up. To smile through the pain and through any situation, no matter how bad, like his idol All Might would do.

As he walks out the school gates, he wonders where to go. He sighs as he really doesn't want to go home knowing that his mother is most likely there. Neither people would be too happy to see each other at all. Their interactions as well as their relationship had become strained ever since Izuku was conditioned quirkless, and he wasn't looking forward to any confrontation with her. Lost in his thoughts, he nearly missed the familiar trio of small, yellow figures wearing blue overalls that bounded up to him, their vibrant energy a stark contrast to his gloomy state.

"Hey!"
"Big boss!"
"Eyoooo!"

Their cheerful calls and energetic greetings cut through the heavy atmosphere, drawing a reluctant smile from Izuku. The absurdity of their unyielding optimism was a small but welcome distraction. Despite his somber mood, he couldn't help but be slightly uplifted by their presence.

"Ah, hey. It's you guys again!" Izuku greeted the small trio with genuine enthusiasm as he approached them. The minions, as they called themselves, had become a curious, interesting and unexpected part of his life.

Izuku remembered their first encounter vividly. It all began a week ago when he had sneaked into an abandoned building to test out his gadgets and inventions. The building was deserted, so he hoped that it didn't count as trespassing. Inside, he had set up a makeshift lab to experiment with his support items and weapons-everything from grenades and unique blasters to tear gas, knockout gas, easy but complex handcuffs, and, of course, his prized Freeze Ray. His goal was to see how these tools could be used to capture villains when he tries for the U.A support course exam.

However, when testing them out, he decided to have some fun with it by acting like hero by performing grandiose dramatics, attempting to imitate All Might's bravado when he fights villains. Or even trying to copy both Bakugou and All Might by saying things like 'EVERYONE BEWARE, FOR I AM HERE!', or DIE!!' And even trying to laugh like All Might.

He had accidently made himself look like a villain instead. And he supposes that the minions had watched him the whole time and that was what had drawn the minions to him as they really want to serve a villain and want him to be a villain for whatever reason. Izuku doesn't know how to break it down to them that he intends to be a hero...

Izuku had initially thought the minions were merely bizarre-looking mutants, speaking in a foreign language that even he couldn't decipher. Their strange appearances and peculiar behavior had made him see them as oddities rather than anything more.

When he returned to the abandoned building, he was utterly astonished to find not just the trio but an entire damn society of minions. The building, which he had thought was abandoned, was teeming with these yellow creatures. It was like stumbling upon a hidden army, all of them working in unison, already making their way to fix the building.

The realization that there was a whole society of these minions, each with their own personalities and specialties, was both overwhelming and intriguing. So, yeah, that's how they met and ever since then, the minions had stuck to his side like unbreakable glue.

"Izuku! Po aca!"
"Pem yacub to!"

The trio of minions, whom Izuku's learned their names to be Kevin, Stuart, and Bob, began to surround him and basically began to fanboy and coddle over him while also babbling excitedly in their own language. Izuku himself finds it a bit uncomfortable, but he appreciates the sentiment nonetheless. "Thanks, guys! Missed you too." He said as his mood actually started to lighten up, especially after having a hard day today.

Suddenly, the tallest minion, Kevin, spoke up. "Izuku! We kaylay a Ta da nunu to! Surprise!" he said eagerly, with Stuart and Bob nodding enthusiastically beside him. "Si! Si!" they chimed in, their excitement contagious.

Izuku, still struggling to understand their language, recognized the English word "surprise." "Surprise? You have a surprise for me?" he asked, a bit puzzled but curious.

The trio nodded vigorously, and before he knew it, they were dragging him by the hand. "What the-!? Whoa!" Izuku exclaimed as the smallest minion, Bob, pulled on his arm with surprising strength. "Kome, kome!" they urged, their excitement only growing.

They led him to a secluded alleyway, and when they finally stopped, Izuku's eyes widened in shock at what he saw.

"TA-DA~!" Kevin, Stuart, and Bob chorused, revealing a heavily modified and upgraded armored motorbike. The bike had a sleek, sharp design with a massive thruster at the back, giving it an almost futuristic look. It had an on-the-nose design, with sleek lines and a black, grey and neon green color scheme that screamed 'cool.'

"Whoa...!" Izuku breathed out, his eyes gleaming with amazement. The bike looked like something out of a high-tech action movie, and it was metal as all hell.

"W-what...?" Izuku stammered, still trying to process the sight before him.

"Nunu to!" Kevin declared proudly.

"Wha-?! For me?! I-I can't drive that! I'm way too young to drive!" Izuku protested, his mind racing with a mix of excitement and panic but mostly panic.

Stuart, the one with a single eye, blew a raspberry. "Pffft! Ben kares?!" he exclaimed, waving off Izuku's concern with a casual hand gesture. Izuku may not understand much of their minionese language, but he was pretty sure Stuart had just said, 'Who cares?!'

Izuku continued to stare at the motorbike with widened eyes, unsure of what to do. He was about to protest further until Kevin nudged him with his elbow. "C'mon! To cono to quer tu~!" Kevin urged with a mischievous grin.

"Mmmmh...!" Izuku made a noise as if he was someone trying to hold back on his temptations or addictions. Until...

---

"AHHH!HAHHAHAHA!"
"WOO-HOOO!"
"YEAAAAAH!"

Izuku was now speeding through the empty streets, riding his new motorbike alongside the minions, all of them having the time of their lives. He made sure to put the big thruster in the back to good use, giving them a huge boost and making them go as fast as they could, leaving nothing but a trail of smoke behind. Now Izuku really hoped that U.A. didn't do background checks...!

Izuku continued speeding down the empty streets until he looked ahead and spotted a tunnel under a bridge. His eyes widened at the sight emerging from a manhole-a massive, liquid body of slime?!

"What is that?!" Izuku yelled, pulling back on the throttle, trying to slow down. The sludge villain, who was in the middle of escaping from All Might, turned his eyes around, curious about the noise and racket coming from behind him.

"Hm? What the hell is-? Huh?!" The villain's eyes bulged in shock as he saw Izuku and his minions speeding directly toward him.

"AHHHH!!!" "AHHHHHH!!!"

They all screamed in unison as Izuku crashed right into the body of the villain. The impact caused the villain's slime-like body to splatter apart all over the tunnel, while Izuku's motorbike skidded and crashed, sending him and the minions tumbling.

Izuku and the minions eventually got up, dazed but thankfully unharmed. Izuku, who had been wearing a helmet, managed to avoid serious injury. The minions, somehow unscathed as usual, seemed as invincible as ever-something Izuku had already come to suspect after witnessing one of them take a flamethrower blast to the face without a scratch. Still, their well-being was always a concern for him.

"Ugh... You guys alright?" Izuku asked with a groan, removing his helmet. Stuart, slumped over the crashed bike, groaned and raised a weak thumbs up. "Yaaa..." he mumbled.

Just as Izuku was about to get up and check on the others, an angry voice caught their attention. The sludge villain, who had reassembled his body after being splattered, loomed over them, his expression furious.

"Oi, brat! What the hell was that?! Do you have any idea who you just messed with?!" the villain ranted, his gooey form shifting menacingly. Izuku's heart raced as he quickly assessed the situation, realizing he was in serious trouble.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir! I didn't mean to-!" Izuku tried to apologize, but the villain wasn't interested in hearing excuses. His slimy arm extended, rushing toward Izuku with malicious intent. Panic surged through Izuku as he scrambled to think of a solution.

In a flash, he reached into his bag beside him and grabbed the freeze ray he'd been working on. Without hesitation, he aimed and fired at the villain, the ray emitting a bright, cold beam that instantly froze the villain's hand, stopping him in his tracks. The sudden halt caused the villain to stumble back in surprise.

But Izuku didn't stop there. He fired again, this time freezing a larger portion of the villain's body. The sludge villain let out an enraged roar as the ice spread across his form, solidifying and immobilizing him further.

Izuku, breathing heavily, took a step back, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn't believe it-his invention had actually worked! But the moment of triumph was brief as he realized the danger still wasn't completely over.

The villain eventually just disembodied the parts of his body that had been frozen and continuing to charge at the boy, enraged. Izuku continued to freeze him on the spot continuously, slowing him down while his mind raced as he tried to think of a different tactic. He used his other hand to pat his body and pockets all over, hoping to find another gadget or weapon of some sort.

Unfortunately, he was too late as the sludge villain had gotten hold of the boy as well as the minions who tried to escape his grasp and began suffocating all of them. Izuku gasped for air as the sludge villain tightened his grip, the suffocating pressure making his vision blur. The minions struggled as well, their usual cheerful demeanor replaced with fear as they tried to wriggle free. Izuku's mind raced, panic taking over as he realized he was running out of options.

The villain's laughter echoed in his ears, drowning out the pounding of his heart. "Don't worry, kid. I'm going to make sure this hurts!" the villain taunted, his slime continuing to further surround Izuku and the minions.

Desperation fueled Izuku's actions as he clawed at the sludge, trying to find any purchase, but it was no use. He could feel his strength waning, the world around him growing darker. Was this it? Was this how it was going to end?

But just as the darkness began to close in, a powerful gust of wind swept through the tunnel, followed by a booming voice that shook the very ground.

"NEVER FEAR! FOR I AM HERE!"

Izuku's eyes widened in shock as he recognized the voice. All Might, the Symbol of Peace, had arrived! In one swift motion, All Might punched the sludge villain with such force that the villain's body was blown apart, freeing Izuku and the minions from his suffocating grasp. The sheer power of the punch caused the air to ripple, and the tunnel walls trembled under the might of the hero.

Izuku and the minions were finally released, but All Might's punch had been so powerful that it knocked everyone out. When Izuku awoke, he found himself face-to-face with his lifelong idol, the number one hero, All Might...who was gently but rapidly slapping his cheek, urging him to wake up.

Any other time, Izuku would have been over the moon, fanboying over the fact that he was meeting the one and only All Might. But as soon as he came to his senses, his first thought was about the minions. "Kevin?! Stuart?! Bob?! Are you guys-?!" he started, his voice full of panic.

He was cut off by the sound of All Might's hearty laughter. "HAHAHAHAHA! FEAR NOT, YOUNG MAN! YOUR... uh, SMALL FRIENDS ARE SAFE AS WELL!" All Might reassured him, stepping aside to reveal the trio of minions rushing toward Izuku from behind his leg.

"Izuku! To're alright!" Bob exclaimed in relief, his goggles shining with concern as he clung to Izuku's leg.

Izuku breathed a sigh of relief, his heart finally settling as he patted Bob's head. "Thank goodness..." he muttered, still a bit dazed but overwhelmingly relieved.

Kevin and Stuart joined Bob, their usual grins back in place as they stood beside their leader. Despite everything that had just happened, seeing All Might and the minions safe and sound brought Izuku a sense of comfort that he hadn't felt all day.

All Might extended a hand to help Izuku to his feet. "You did well, young man! And quite the peculiar companions you have," he said with a chuckle, watching as the minions began to jump around him, clearly impressed by the hero's power.

"T-thank you, All Might! I-I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't shown up..." Izuku stammered, still in awe.

All Might gave a hearty laugh, his presence radiating reassurance. "It was no trouble at all! Just doing my duty as the Symbol of Peace! But tell me, are you hurt?"

Izuku shook his head, still feeling a bit sore but otherwise okay. "No, I'm fine, thanks to you."

The minions, now satisfied that Izuku was alright, began mimicking All Might's famous poses, much to the hero's amusement.

"You've got some lively friends here!" All Might said, crouching down to get a better look at the minions. "It's not every day I meet such unique little fellows."

Izuku smiled, a warmth spreading through his chest. Despite the chaos, the day had taken an unexpectedly positive turn. Meeting All Might and knowing that the minions were safe filled him with hope and determination.

"Thank you, All Might," Izuku said, his voice full of sincerity. "I'll never forget this."

"VERY WELL THEN! I MUST LEAVE! CRIME WAITS FOR NO ONE! HAVE A GOOD DAY, YOUNG CITIZEN!" All Might bellowed, preparing to take his leave. But as he got ready to jump, Izuku's eyes widened in distress. There was one question he desperately needed to ask.

Before he could process what was happening, All Might leaped into the air, taking Izuku with him. The minions called out to him in alarm, but Izuku was too focused to notice. His heart raced as he clung to his idol, his mind set on asking the most important question of his life.

They landed on the roof of a building, and All Might immediately scolded the young man for his reckless action. "You should be more careful! Jumping like that could've gotten you seriously hurt!" All Might instructed Izuku to take the stairs down while he moved toward the edge of the roof.

But Izuku couldn't let him go without an answer. Ignoring the reprimand, he followed All Might, words running through his mind like echoes-echoes of all the people who had discouraged him over the years. Summoning his courage, he finally blurted out, "All Might... can someone like me, someone who doesn't have a quirk, still be a hero like you?!"

All Might stopped in his tracks and turned to face the boy, his eyes meeting Izuku's, who was yearning for an answer. But before he could respond, All Might suddenly gave a painful grunt, clutching his side as he hunched over. Izuku, oblivious to what was happening, continued to speak, his voice filled with desperation. He talked about being teased for being quirkless, yet still wanting to save people with a smile.

It wasn't until the steam cleared that Izuku looked up, his words catching in his throat. His eyes widened in shock as he saw the frail, skeletal figure standing where All Might should have been.

"What... what happened to you?!" Izuku stammered, completely freaked out by the transformation.

The skeletal man, still bleeding slightly from the mouth, tried to explain, "This is my true form. I am All Might... or at least what's left of him." He wiped his mouth, the blood smearing across his hand.

Izuku could hardly process what he was seeing. All Might went on to explain that this form was similar to someone flexing to show off. "But you always save people with a smile," Izuku said, his voice trembling, which caught the hero's attention.

All Might mused on the line before sitting down heavily on the rooftop, his posture weary. "This is what happens when you fight battles that are too big for you. Five years ago, I took an injury that left me like this. I've lost parts of my organs, and after repeated surgeries, I can only maintain my hero form for a few hours a day."

Izuku looked absolutely disturbed, unable to tear his eyes away from the injury. All Might continued, "The battle that caused this... it was kept out of public knowledge. I requested it myself, to keep my image intact. That's what my smile is-it's a symbol, not just for hope, but for the burdens we carry as heroes."

All Might then looked at the boy seriously. "Kid, there's something I need you to understand... heroes put their lives on the line every day. They face dangers you can't even begin to imagine. That's why... I can't tell you that you can be a hero without some kind of power."

Izuku's heart sank as his eyes widen in despair. He saw where this was going and he couldn't believe it! He could feel the weight of All Might's words bearing down on him, crushing his hopes. All Might then looked at Izuku with a mix of pity and seriousness. "I'm sorry, kid. But without a quirk, I don't think you can be a hero. You should look for a more realistic dream." He said as he finally exited the building with the bottle'd up villain in-tact, leaving Izuku utterly alone.

Izuku felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him. His vision blurred with tears as All Might's words echoed in his mind. The very dream he had clung to for so long now felt like it was slipping through his fingers.

He was absolutely devastated.

The voices and memories of all the bullying, the constant demeaning, and everyone putting him down for his desire to be a hero rushed back to him like a flood. Bakugou's cruel 'advice' played on a loop in his head, mocking him. And now this. The number one hero, his life-long idol, the one who had always told people, "You can be a hero, too!"...had just rejected him.

Izuku clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as sadness and rage began to consume him. His body trembled with the overwhelming mix of emotions, the pain of a shattered dream twisting inside him.

He truly was having a bad, bad day.

---

Izuku walked home in a daze, his feet moving on autopilot as his mind swirled in a void of emptiness. The usual hustle and bustle of the city around him seemed distant, muffled, like he was trapped behind a thick wall of glass. He felt nothing-no anger, no sadness, no frustration. Just a cold, hollow numbness that spread through his chest and made it hard to breathe.

His phone dinged, and he saw Kevin's concerned message asking where he was and expressing worry. Izuku replied with a terse "I'm fine" and instructed them to return to their building base. Despite his reassurance, he knew it did little to ease their concern.

When he arrived at the front door of his apartment, he tensed up. The anticipation of facing his home, and by extension his mother, made his heart heavy. This was the part he dreaded the most. The anxiety he'd been trying to suppress bubbled up again, mingling with the numbness he felt. This was the place he had tried so hard to avoid after the painful encounter with All Might. The anticipation of seeing his mother, with their strained relationship, only made his heart heavy.

Taking a deep breath, he unlocked the door with a shaking hand. The creak of the hinges as he pushed it open seemed unusually loud, echoing in the quiet hallway. His mother hadn't come to berate him. That was good. He was in no mood to be dealing with his mother's bullshit today.

Izuku closed the door behind him, the silence of the apartment pressing in on him. His mother, Inko, was nowhere to be seen. He trudged to his room, hoping to escape into his thoughts and avoid any interaction. Unfortunately, he just couldn't look at his room the same way again. His room filled with All Might and hero merchandise now seemed like that even they are laughing at him. So he opted to just go outside. But as he passed the kitchen, he saw his mother standing there, back turned, clearly lost in her own world.

Inko's voice broke the silence, sharp and unforgiving. "You're home late," she said, though her tone carried no real concern. She didn't turn around to look at him.

Izuku, feeling the weight of the day crushing him, tried to ignore her. "Yeah," he mumbled, heading towards his room. He didn't have the energy to deal with her now.

But Inko's voice followed him, rising in irritation. "You're always out, running around like a delinquent. Where the hell were you?"

Izuku stopped, feeling a familiar sting. He turned back, his voice strained. "Nowhere...I just had a really bad day."

Inko's shoulders tensed, her annoyance palpable. "A bad day? You always have excuses. You know, sometimes I wonder if you even care about how much you frustrate me."

Izuku felt a familiar surge of anger and hurt. "Can't you just leave me alone? I don't need this right now."

Inko turned to face him, her face twisted in frustration. "Oh, so now you're too good for me? You're always running off, always shirking your responsibilities. How do you think I feel, dealing with you-"

It was at this point where Izuku finally snapped. All the anger, all the frustration he had been bottling up the whole day had just come flooding out. "AaaAARH! WHY?!? WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE FOR JUST ONE MOMENT?!? WHY CAN'T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I'M ACTUALLY GOING THROUGH SOME SHIT?!? WHY IS IT ALWAYS ABOUT YOU?!?! WHAT DO YOU KNOW?!?"

Izuku's outburst hung in the air like a thick, suffocating cloud. His voice had erupted with a ferocity he hadn't even realized he possessed, years of pent-up frustration and anger finally exploding to the surface. The impact was visible-Inko had flinched, a rare show of vulnerability from the woman who seemed to wield her words like a weapon. But she quickly recovered, her face contorting in fury, unwilling to let her son get the last word.

"What do I know? I KNOW THAT YOU COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE TO CARRY A BURDEN! I KNOW THAT YOU COULD NEVER UNDERSTAND WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ME!" she spat back, her voice rising to match his, every word laced with venom.

Izuku stared at her, incredulous, his chest heaving with the force of his emotions. "Oh my god, YOU'RE STILL TALKING ABOUT YOURSELF!!! WHY?!?!" His voice cracked, raw with the intensity of his feelings. "I'M STANDING HERE, TRYING TO TELL YOU HOW MUCH I'VE BEEN HURTING FOR SO MANY FUCKING YEARS, AND ALL YOU CAN STILL THINK ABOUT IS YOURSELF?!"

Inko's eyes narrowed, her anger reaching a boiling point. "YOU THINK YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO'S HURTING?! YOU THINK YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WITH PROBLEMS!? YOU'RE SELFISH, IZUKU! YOU'VE ALWAYS BEEN SELFISH! THINKING THE WORLD REVOLVES AROUND YOU AND YOUR STUPID DREAM!"

"SELFISH?! I'M SELFISH FOR WANTING TO BE SOMETHING MORE, FOR WANTING TO MAKE A DIFFERENCE?! ALL I EVER WANTED WAS FOR YOU TO BE PROUD OF ME! IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK??! TO SEE ME! TO LOVE ME! TO ACCEPT ME! BUT NO, IT'S NEVER ENOUGH, IS IT?! I'M NEVER ENOUGH FOR YOU!!!" Izuku's voice wavered, the pain of his words evident.

Inko took a step closer, her expression hardening. "Maybe it's because you've never been enough. Maybe it's because you've always been a disappointment. I've wasted so much of my life on you-do you think that's fair to me?! It's all because of you Hisashi left!"

The words cut through Izuku like a knife. His vision blurred with unshed tears, his hands trembling at his sides. He could feel himself unraveling, the tenuous thread holding him together fraying with each passing second.

And then, Inko said the words that shattered him completely.

"I wish you were never born!"

Silence fell, heavy and suffocating. The world seemed to stop spinning, the air sucked out of the room. Izuku's heart plummeted, the final piece of his already fragile spirit crumbling to dust.

For a moment, he just stood there, staring at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. The person who was supposed to love him unconditionally, who was supposed to be his refuge, had just destroyed whatever remnants of hope he had left.

Without another word, Izuku turned on his heel and bolted out of the apartment, his vision swimming with unshed tears. The door slammed shut behind him with a deafening bang, but he didn't care. He just needed to get away-away from her, away from the pain, away from everything.

His feet pounded against the pavement as he ran through the darkened streets, the world around him a blur. He didn't know where he was going, didn't care. He just needed to escape, to outrun the suffocating weight of his mother's words that now echoed in his mind like a cruel, endless mantra. The cold air slapped against his face, but he didn't stop. He kept running with heavy rain hitting his face as he fled from the apartment and the cruel words that echoed in his mind.

Izuku sat in the dark, empty alleyway, his body curled up tightly against the cold, unforgiving wall. His breaths came in ragged, shuddering gasps as he fought to keep himself together, his chest rising and falling with the effort. His hands clutched desperately at his hair, pulling at the roots in a futile attempt to silence the voices and memories that crashed through his mind like a relentless storm.

Each word, each cruel taunt, echoed in his head, growing louder and more overwhelming with every passing second.

I wish you were never born.

Why don't you take a swan dive off a roof and pray for a Quirk in your next life!

I'm sorry, kid. But without a quirk, I don't think you can be a hero.

You're selfish!

You'll never amount to anything!

He's such a crybaby!

Worthless deku!

It's all because of you!

Izuku's body began to tremble uncontrollably, his muscles tensing as the weight of every insult, every rejection, pressed down on him like a crushing burden. He could feel himself breaking, the fragile walls he had built around his heart crumbling into nothingness.

And then...there was silence.

The world around him seemed to fade away, leaving only the deafening quiet of his own despair. The dam holding back his emotions, the one he had tried so hard to maintain, finally shattered under the pressure.

A choked sob escaped his lips, followed by another, and then another, until the floodgates opened completely. Izuku buried his face in his hands, his body shaking violently as he cried-no longer able to hold back the tidal wave of grief, pain, and hopelessness that had been building inside him for so long.

The tears came in an unstoppable torrent, soaking his hands and dripping onto the cold pavement below as the rain continued to pour. The water mixed with his tears, turning the ground beneath him into a small, swirling pool of despair. His sobs echoed through the empty alley, raw and agonized, the sound of a heart that had been broken too many times to mend.

Why? he thought, the question reverberating in his mind like a haunting melody. Why had this world been so cruel to him?

All he had ever wanted was to help-to be someone who could save others, who could bring a smile to their faces, just like his idol All Might. But every step of the way, life had thrown obstacle after obstacle in his path, tearing down his dreams, shattering his hopes, and leaving him alone in the darkness.

Why is it always like this? His thoughts spiraled, each one sinking him deeper into the abyss of his despair. He had tried so hard, had given everything he had, only to be met with rejection, ridicule, and pain.

All I wanted was to be a hero... The words echoed in his mind, a desperate plea to a world that seemed determined to crush him under its weight. But no one had listened, no one had cared. Not his classmates, not his teachers, not even his own mother. And now, even the one person he had always looked up to, the one who had inspired him to dream in the first place, had turned him away.

Why am I not good enough? The question burned in his mind, searing his soul with its relentless agony. What did I do wrong?

But there were no answers, only the unrelenting rain, the cold pavement beneath him, and the echo of his own broken heart. The world had been so cruel to him, and for what? What had he done to deserve this?

He had only wanted to help.

(A/N: Okay, I didn't expect nor mean for this shit to be so angsty when I started writing this💀but bare with me please.)

As Izuku cried, his sobs mingling with the patter of rain, a soft voice suddenly broke through the storm of his despair. "Ya, palatu. Papoy."

Izuku sniffed, his tear-streaked face lifting just enough to see the small figure standing in front of him. He blinked through the blur of his tears, and his eyes widened in surprise as he recognized the familiar face.

"Huh? Bob?" he murmured, his voice hoarse from crying. There, standing right in front of him, was Bob, the small minion holding out his cherished toy teddy bear with a gentle smile. Behind Bob stood Kevin and Stuart, both of them looking at Izuku with genuine concern etched on their yellow faces.

Bob took a step closer, his tiny hands extending the teddy bear towards Izuku. "Teddy oso papoy," he repeated, his voice soft and comforting.

Izuku stared at the toy, a lump forming in his throat as the warmth of the gesture began to seep into his broken heart. He didn't bother to wipe away his tears as he reached out with trembling hands, accepting the teddy bear. The softness of the plush toy was a stark contrast to the cold, hard reality he had been drowning in.

"Bob... Kevin, Stuart..." Izuku whispered, his voice trembling. The concern in their eyes was so genuine, so pure, that it made the tears flow even harder. These small, strange creatures-the minions-were the only ones who had come to find him, who had cared enough to stay by his side in his darkest moment.

He hugged the teddy bear close, his chest heaving with the weight of his emotions. "Thank you," he whispered, though the words felt inadequate. The minions had done more for him in this moment than anyone else had. They had found him when he felt lost, offered him comfort when he felt abandoned.

Kevin and Stuart moved closer, placing their hands on his shoulders in a gesture of support. They didn't speak, but their presence was enough. They were there for him, and in that moment, it was all Izuku needed.

As Izuku's tears dried and his spirits began to lift, he looked up at the bright moon hanging in the night sky. The soft, silvery light bathed him in a sense of calm as he contemplated his next move. His dream of becoming a hero was gone, shattered by the harsh realities of the world. But as he stood there with the minions by his side, a new determination began to flicker inside him.

He realized that he didn't have to follow the path laid out by others. If being a hero wasn't in the cards for him, then he would find another way to make his mark on the world. Izuku thought about All Might's suggestion of becoming a police officer, but dismissed it. He knew deep down that the same barriers that kept him from being a hero would likely keep him from being accepted as a police officer too.

But then, his thoughts turned to the minions-these strange, loyal creatures who had shown him more support than anyone else. A new fire lit in his eyes as an idea began to take shape in his mind. If he couldn't be a hero, he would carve out his own path, one where he could still make a difference, even if it wasn't in the way he had originally dreamed!

Standing tall with renewed purpose, Izuku turned to the minions, his voice steady and determined. "Kevin, Stuart, Bob. Where's my motorbike?"

The trio looked at each other, confused by the sudden change in Izuku's demeanor. But Stuart pointed to the street outside the alleyway, where they had left the bike. "Fino bada. Po ka?" he asked, curious about what Izuku was planning.

For the first time in what felt like forever, a confident smile spread across Izuku's face. "Follow me," he said, the words carrying a sense of resolve.

When they reached the motorbike, Izuku noticed that it was slightly damaged from the earlier crash with the slime villain. The front was a bit scuffed, and the handlebars were a little bent, but it was still usable. He grabbed his helmet and slid it on, feeling the cool weight of it settle over his head. Then, he swung his leg over the bike and sat down.

"C'mon, get on, guys!" Izuku urged the minions, who were now buzzing with excitement and curiosity. They scrambled onto the bike, finding spots to hold on as Izuku revved the engine. The sound roared to life, echoing off the walls of the alleyway.

With a determined glint in his eyes, Izuku revved the engine of his motorbike. Vroom! Vroom! The sound roared through the quiet night as he clicked the button that activated the thruster. In an instant, they were off, speeding into the darkness like a blur of motion and light. Izuku made sure his helmet was securely in place, covering his face so no one could recognize him driving underage. But that was the least of his concerns. The thrill of the ride, the wind whipping past him, and the minions clinging on behind him made his heart race with exhilaration.

He expertly maneuvered through the late-night traffic, weaving between cars and leaving them in the dust. The streets were mercifully clear at this hour, allowing Izuku to push the bike to its limits without much worry. The city lights blurred into streaks of color as they raced toward their destination.

---

Izuku arrived at the once-abandoned building where he had first encountered the minions, and his jaw nearly dropped in surprise. The place looked completely different from what he remembered. It was no longer the dilapidated structure he had expected to see; instead, it now looked like a totally normal, unassuming building that blended in perfectly with its surroundings.

'They've done this that fast?! It's only been a week!' Izuku thought, unable to hide his amazement. The minions had somehow managed to renovate the entire place in record time, disguising it so well that no one would ever suspect it housed anything unusual.

As he stared at the building, a mix of pride and disbelief washed over him. The minions had not only built a base-they had created the perfect cover for whatever plans he might have in the future. "This is... impressive," he muttered to himself, realizing just how resourceful and efficient his new companions were.

Izuku entered the building with Bob, Kevin, and Stuart by his side. The interior was just as remarkable as the exterior-clean, organized, and humming with energy. He felt a sense of determination building inside him, something he hadn't felt in a long time. He was surprised to see them still working or chilling this late at night.

He walked over to the speaker system near the entrance, his heart pounding with anticipation. Taking a deep breath, he pressed the button and spoke into the microphone. "All minions, please assemble in the assembly room. I have an important announcement to make."

His voice echoed through the building, and within moments, the sound of hurried footsteps filled the halls as minions scurried to gather. Izuku turned to the trio beside him, giving them a nod of thanks for standing by him. Every minion inside the building began to go ecstatic as they day that they actually serve a new, evil boss might just come true!

As he made his way to the assembly room, he could feel a new sense of purpose beginning to take root. This was it-the start of something new. Something that would allow him to carve out his own path in a world that had tried to crush him. When he entered the assembly room, he was met with the sight of a sea of minions already cheering for him, their eyes full of anticipation and excitement.

As Izuku stood before the sea of eager minion faces, his heart raced. The sheer number of them, all focused intently on him, was overwhelming. His palms were sweaty, his knees weak and arms are heavy. Public speaking had never been his strong suit, and the weight of this moment only made it more daunting. But as he looked into their wide, hopeful eyes, something inside him steadied.

Taking a deep breath, he tried again, his voice a bit stronger this time. "I... I'm not used to this, so bear with me. But I need to say this. Today... today is the beginning of something new. I know I haven't been the best leader, and I know I'm still figuring things out, but together... together, I think we can accomplish something amazing!"

The minions cheered, their excitement palpable, and it bolstered Izuku's confidence. He began to feel a spark, the fire of determination that had been ignited earlier now growing into a blaze. Izuku stood there, letting the minions' cheers wash over him. For the first time, he felt like he truly belonged somewhere. As he looked out at the sea of yellow faces, a deep realization settled in his heart. All his life, he had been rejected-by his school, by the hero society, by his own mother, and by the world at large. No one had believed in him, no one had given him a chance, no one had accepted him for who he was.

Except for them.

The minions, strange and chaotic as they were, had accepted him without hesitation. They didn't care that he was quirkless, or that he was a failure in the eyes of the world. They didn't judge him or put him down. All they wanted was to serve an evil boss, and they had chosen him.

Izuku's heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and resolve. If this was the role he was meant to play, then he would play it well. Who was he to let them down? The world might have turned its back on him, but he wouldn't turn his back on them. He would be the leader they deserved, and together, they would carve their own path-a path that would show the world that he was far from finished!

Izuku's grip on the microphone tightened as his resolve solidified. "You all chose me," he said, his voice steady and filled with newfound conviction. "And I'm not going to let you down. I've heard your words. I know that you all want me to be evil. And, well...if it's an evil boss you want, then that's exactly what you'll get!"

"YEAAAAH!!!"
"WOO-HOOOO!!!"

The minions erupted into a thunderous cheer, their loyalty and excitement evident. The day had come where they finally would serve an evil boss! Izuku smiled, a confident and almost wicked grin spreading across his face. This was it-his moment, his destiny. He wasn't just going to exist in this world; he was going to make his mark on it, and he was going to do it with them by his side!

"Are you all ready to show this world what we're made of?!" he declared, his voice filled with dramatic flair and conviction. The fire in his eyes was unmistakable, a burning determination that had been ignited by years of rejection and scorn.

The minions responded with an explosive roar, their excitement and enthusiasm palpable. Their cheers reverberated off the walls, creating a powerful, electrifying atmosphere. Izuku felt a surge of adrenaline, his earlier pain and despair now transformed into a fierce resolve.

"Good! Because from this point on, this world will know the might and power of the greatest villain of all time...DEKU!" Izuku's voice rang with defiant pride as he embraced the name that had once been used to belittle him. He would turn it into a symbol of his power, a name that would strike fear into the hearts of those who had doubted him.

The minions erupted into a frenzied chant, their voices rising in a unified chorus of "DEKU! DEKU! DEKU! DEKU! DEKU!" The chant grew louder and more intense, their loyalty and excitement fueling the momentum. The room was filled with an almost tangible energy, the minions' fervor reflecting Izuku's newfound determination.

As the chant continued, Izuku's smile grew wider, his confidence soaring. This was his moment, his chance to prove himself and make his mark on the world. With the minions by his side, he was ready to embrace his destiny and show everyone what the name 'DEKU' truly meant.

Izuku Midoriya anow has a new goal, a new dream.

No longer will he strive to be a hero. No, he will strive be the greatest supervillain this world has ever seen!

He will be...Despicable!

Chapter Text

Sunlight streamed through the small gaps in the curtains, casting warm, golden hues across the room as Izuku slowly blinked awake. For a moment, he lay there, staring up at the unfamiliar ceiling, the events of the previous night flooding back into his mind. He wasn't in his small, cluttered bedroom filled with hero merch anymore. No, this was different-this was the beginning of his new life.

He sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and stretching his arms above his head. The bed he was in was surprisingly comfortable, far better than he expected from an abandoned building. But then again, with the minions around, nothing seemed impossible. He examined his body all over to notice that he was still wearing the same, drenched middle-school uniform from yesterday.

As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, the door to his room burst open, and a trio of familiar faces tumbled inside.

"Big boss!" Bob exclaimed cheerfully, holding up a tray laden with a somewhat haphazardly prepared breakfast. Scrambled eggs-slightly burnt-toast, and what looked like a banana smoothie occupied the tray, all wobbling precariously as Bob struggled to keep it balanced.

"Good morning, guys," Izuku greeted with a soft smile, his heart warming at the sight. He hadn't expected this kind of treatment, but it was a welcome surprise nonetheless. It was a nice change of pace then when his mother would usually just burst into the room and dump hot water on him or just slap him hard until he was awake.

Kevin stepped forward, adjusting his goggles proudly. "Banana smoothie! Fo tu!" he announced, pointing to the smoothie with enthusiasm.

Stuart, ever the cool one, strummed a small ukulele, adding a musical touch to the morning greeting. The cheerful tune filled the room, instantly lifting Izuku's spirits.

Izuku couldn't help but chuckle at their antics. "Thank you so much," he said, taking the tray from Bob before it could tip over. He took a sip of the smoothie, the sweet taste of bananas filling his mouth. "This is really good!"

The minions beamed at the praise, exchanging excited high-fives before bustling around the room, tidying up and laying out a fresh set of clothes for him. Izuku watched them, feeling a sense of belonging that he hadn't felt in a long time. These little creatures had accepted him wholeheartedly, and their loyalty was unwavering.

Izuku finished his breakfast and was getting dressed when he noticed Kevin standing nearby. "Hey, Kevin, what time is it?" Izuku asked, still half-focused on getting ready.

Kevin glanced at his watch and replied, "Pik tis, eh... seven thirty."

Izuku's eyes widened in panic. "7:30?! I'm gonna be late!" He immediately started rushing around the room, frantically grabbing his school supplies and muttering under his breath in a flurry of nervous energy. "Where's my bag? Did I finish that math assignment? Oh no, the uniform-"

But then, as he was about to bolt out the door, Izuku froze. A sudden realization hit him like a ton of bricks. Wait a minute... I'm a villain now. I don't need to go to school anymore! Ha!

But then, reality started to settle in. Sure, his mother hadn't reported his absence to the authorities or any pro heroes-something he was oddly grateful for, even if it was a sign of her negligence-but it would definitely raise suspicion if he suddenly disappeared for more than a day or two.

He groaned. As painful as it'll be, he supposes that he should attend school for now to lay suspicion off of him for the time being until he figures out his plan of action. Besides, there was something he needed to do there, and another pressing question gnawed at the back of his mind:

...How does one become a villain?

He had spent his entire life idolizing heroes, so the thought of doing the opposite was completely foreign to him. Society completely villainizing and ostracizing them didn't help at all. 'What should I do now? How does a villain act? Should I start acting like Kacchan? What should be my first act of villainy? DoIhavetoactevil? HowshouldIdebutasavillain? Dovillainsevendodebuts?'

Izuku was so caught up in his spiraling thoughts that he didn't notice he had started muttering under his breath again, his words becoming a frantic blur. The trio of minions began to exchange nervous glances, clearly unsettled by their boss's sudden shift in demeanor.

"Eh...big boss...? Deku?" Bob asked nervously, his round eyes full of concern.

Izuku snapped out of his thoughts and blinked at the worried expressions of his minions. He laughed in embarrassment. "S-Sorry, guys! Just a habit of mine! Sorry if I freaked you out!" He apologized with a sheepish smile.

As he stepped out of his bedroom and into the hallway, he was greeted by a flurry of activity. Minions were everywhere, scurrying about with tools, blueprints, and various gadgets that Izuku couldn't even begin to identify.

The once-abandoned building had been completely transformed. The walls were reinforced and painted, the floors polished to a shine. High-tech equipment lined the corridors, and several rooms had been repurposed into laboratories, workshops, and control centers. It was as if he had stepped into the headquarters of a top-tier organization.

"Wow... you guys did all of this overnight?" Izuku asked in amazement as Kevin walked alongside him, nodding enthusiastically.

"Si! Si!" Kevin replied, clearly proud of their work.

Izuku couldn't help but smile, feeling a mix of pride and anticipation as he took in the results of their hard work. He was eager to dive into his new life as a villain, but unfortunately, he had one last obstacle to deal with-school. He let out a sigh. "I'd love to get started right away, but I've got to go to school for now," he said, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. "Kevin, you're in charge while I'm gone, okay?"

Kevin tilted his head in confusion, his large eyes blinking as he tried to understand. "Borko? Ka moo to fem odegie aca?" he asked, wondering why his boss was still going to school.

Izuku, while not fully understanding their language, could sense Kevin's confusion. He paused, considering how to explain. "I know it seems strange," he began, "but right now, I need to keep up appearances. If I suddenly stop going to school, people will start asking questions. We don't need that kind of attention, at least not yet."

Kevin nodded slowly, still a bit puzzled but trusting his boss's judgment. Izuku knelt down and gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "This is just for now. Once we're ready, school won't be an issue anymore. Until then, we need to stay under the radar. But I promise, you won't be disappointed!"

With that, Kevin smiled as he saluted, and the other minions around them followed suit, their tiny hands snapping to attention with enthusiastic determination. Izuku smiled at their loyalty and commitment. He stood up and turned to head for the door, the weight of his new double life starting to settle on his shoulders.

As he stepped outside, he took a final look at the building, now a symbol of the new path he was carving out for himself. He felt a surge of excitement mixed with a sense of resolve. This was the beginning of something big, and he was determined to make sure the world remembered his name.

With that thought in mind, Izuku set off for school, determined to balance his old life with his new one-at least for now. Because for now, he needs to figure out who will he be tonight, that's the question.

---

Izuku rode his motorbike through the quiet streets, the early morning air cool against his face. He made sure to stay out of sight, carefully avoiding any attention that might be drawn to the fact that he was an underage driver. As he neared the school, he found a secluded alleyway nearby and parked his motorbike, making sure it was well hidden before heading toward the school gates.

As he approached the entrance of his middle school, Izuku paused, taking a deep breath. He had never dreaded going to school as much as he did today. The idea of sitting through classes, pretending to be the same quirkless, overlooked student, felt like a burden now. But he knew he had to grit his teeth and bear it-for now, at least.

"Just keep a low profile and go unnoticed." he muttered to himself, steeling his resolve. His objective of the day: Figure out what his first despicable deed will be!

As the day progressed, the first and second periods were a monotonous blur. It was the same as always-students flaunting their quirks without consequence, teachers turning a blind eye, and Bakugou parading his explosive abilities and oversized ego while everyone around him cheered him on. It was all painfully familiar, including the occasional jabs and taunts thrown Izuku's way. Just another day in this quirk-obsessed school.

But during lunch, Izuku had something more important to attend to. He made his way to the teacher's lounge, his heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and resolve. He needed to speak with his lousy homeroom teacher-an apathetic man who had never really cared about Izuku at all. But today, Izuku would be making a decision that would shock even this indifferent teacher.

He knocked on the door and entered the lounge, finding his teacher lazily scrolling through his phone. Without preamble, Izuku spoke up, his voice steady and determined. "Sensei, I've come to withdraw my application for the U.A. hero course." He said, getting straight to the point.

His teacher barely glanced up from his phone, already prepared to deliver another condescending remark about how pointless it was for a quirkless student to aspire to be a hero. But as the words sank in, the teacher froze, his mind processing what Izuku had just said. "Midoriya, how many times do I have to-wait, what?!"

The surprise in his teacher's voice was almost satisfying, but Izuku didn't let it show. He simply stood there, waiting for the teacher's reaction. "I've come to withdraw my application for the-"

"Y-Yes, I heard you...!" The teacher interrupted, still processing the shock. "It's just...why? What caused this change?" His voice wavered with genuine curiosity, a hint of alarm creeping in as he tried to make sense of the situation. The usually disinterested and lackluster teacher, who often seemed to loathe both his job and life itself, was absolutely flabbergasted. For once, the man who rarely showed any emotion beyond boredom was fully engaged, trying to comprehend whether this was truly the Izuku Midoriya he knew.

Izuku sighed, keeping his expression neutral. "Well, it's just that I've finally realized it's impossible for someone like me to be a pro hero, so I believe my purpose in life truly lies elsewhere." His words were carefully chosen; while not entirely untrue, he couldn't be too honest and reveal the full extent of his new determination to pursue villainy.

The teacher looked taken aback, almost shocked. The curt and formal attitude was completely unlike the timid, nervous boy he knew from class. He didn't even stutter! "W-well, Midoriya. I'm proud that you've finally taken my and others' words to heart."

Izuku's brow twitched as he resisted the urge to sneer at the audacity of the man. You don't get to be proud! he thought bitterly.

The teacher sighed, putting on a façade of concern. "As your teacher, I only care deeply about your well-being and future. So it's good that you've finally dropped your unrealistic dream and are thinking more realistically and reasonably." He had the gall to act all professional now.

Izuku resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Yeah, right. Like you cared about my 'well-being and future' in the first place, he thought, feeling a swell of irritation. The hypocrisy of it all was almost too much to bear, but he kept his composure, knowing he had bigger plans ahead.

"Well, it looks like lunch is almost over. We can talk more about this tomorrow. Until then, I expect you to have picked a reasonable career choice. See you, Midoriya!" the teacher explained, dismissing the conversation with an air of finality.

"...Yes. Goodbye indeed, sensei." Izuku casually replied back with a cheery smile as he began to leave. A cheery smile that completely contradicted the disdainful, almost hateful look in his eyes. After Izuku exited the teacher's lounge, he quickly took a deep breath and calmed himself down. 'Keep control of your emotions, Izuku. Only half a day left.' He reminded himself to keep a low profile.

As the day went on, word quickly spread around the school that Deku had finally given up on his 'stupid hero dream.' Izuku's brow twitched in annoyance. Of course, this school couldn't keep anything classified, and nosy people simply couldn't mind their own damn business. Either that, or some lousy teacher that overheard his conversation with his homeroom teacher earlier had recklessly leaked that sensitive info which lead to a chain event leading to this.

Izuku was sitting alone during the second lunch, as usual, but for once, he felt a sense of peace. With everyone now convinced he had given up, they were less likely to bother him, leaving him free to plot his first move without interruption-

"Oi, Deku. We need to talk."

-Until now, as Bakugou had decided to approach him, his voice dripping with the usual arrogance, but this time he sounded a lot more...serious? Izuku's eyes casted a shadow for a moment, until he decided to put on his usual, timid and nervous Deku act to play along. "W-What is it, K-Kacchan?" He asked with faux nervousness.

"I heard that you've finally given up on your stupid hero dream." He started.

"Y-Yeah? W-Why?" Izuku replied stuttering, playing the part. Bakugou actually scoffed.

"Yeah, right! You expect me to believe that?! To believe that you, of all people, have just suddenly given up on being a hero? What's next? Pigs start flying?!" Bakugou sneered and Izuku tried not to give him the stink-eye. 'You scorn me for wanting to be a hero and you still scorn me for not wanting to be a hero. Honestly, Bakugou...what do you want from me?' Izuku thought, both perplexed and frustrated. At this point, he just wanted to be left alone.

The arrogant blonde continued to eye him suspiciously, his gaze narrowing as if he was trying to see through Izuku's act. "What's your game, nerd? What are you planning?" he demanded, his tone laced with both irritation and mistrust.

"N-Nothing!" Izuku stammered, keeping up his timid facade. "I-I just realized that I'll never be a hero, s-so there's no point in trying anymore!"

Bakugou's eyes narrowed further, clearly not buying it. "Tch. You're up to something, Deku. Don't think I won't figure it out!" He growled, before finally turning away, leaving Izuku to his thoughts.

As Bakugou walked off, Izuku couldn't help but smirk inwardly. 'You're right, Kacchan! I am up to something!...Something that you have no idea about at all~.'

And with that, Izuku finally made a confirmation. Thanks to the delightful behavior of the people in his school, he now knows exactly what his first act of villainy will be: Burning down this damn place.

The thought alone sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. The very place that had been a constant source of pain and humiliation would soon be nothing more than a pile of ashes. The satisfaction of erasing it from existence was too tempting to resist.

'It's time to make them all pay!' Izuku thought, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he began to plot his first despicable deed.

---

As the school day came to an end, students and teachers filed out of the building, eager to head home. But Izuku lingered behind, waiting patiently until the halls were empty, leaving only a few security guards and janitors. This was his moment.

His first step before he turned Aldera Junior High into ashes was to disable the security systems. Even though the school's security was notoriously poor, Izuku couldn't afford to take any chances. He had to be thorough.

'Alright... here we go!' Izuku thought, steeling himself for his first true act of villainy. He crept through the empty hallways, the sound of his footsteps barely audible on the polished floors. His heart raced with both nerves and excitement as he headed towards the janitor's closet, knowing he needed a disguise to move about more unnoticed.

He slipped into the janitor's room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The room was small, cluttered with cleaning supplies, mops, and various uniforms hanging on a rack. Izuku quickly grabbed one of the uniforms, only to realize that it was several sizes too big for him.

'Oh, you've got to be kidding me!' He thought, eyeing the oversized uniform. But there was no time to waste. He quickly pulled the janitor's outfit over his own clothes, struggling to keep the massive pants from slipping off his hips and the sleeves from hanging over his hands.

Izuku silently cursed and decided to change again to another uniform that'll fit only to realize that it was the same size as before. So, he throws another uniform away and tries another one again, and again, and again...and again. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Izuku found a uniform that was just barely manageable. It still hung awkwardly on his frame, but he could make it work with some quick sleeve rolls and a frayed piece of string he found on the floor to cinch the waistband.

As he fumbled with the uniform, trying to make it look halfway decent, he suddenly heard footsteps approaching the door. Izuku's eyes widened in panic. 'Oh no!'

He frantically glanced around the cluttered closet, his heart racing. There was nowhere to hide! In a split second decision, Izuku dove to hide behind...a stack of mop buckets, of all things, crouching low and hoping he wouldn't be seen.

The door creaked open, and Izuku held his breath, praying that he wouldn't be noticed. A janitor walked in, humming a tune as he grabbed a mop from the rack. Izuku squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to disappear.

The janitor paused, his gaze sweeping the room. For a moment, Izuku thought he was caught. But instead, the janitor's attention was drawn to the pile of discarded uniforms. "Who the hell keeps messin' with my closet?" the janitor grumbled, shaking his head.

With an exasperated sigh, the janitor picked up the discarded uniforms and left, still muttering to himself.

Izuku waited a few more seconds before letting out a sigh of relief. 'That was too close!' He thought, cautiously emerging from his hiding spot. With the janitor gone, Izuku adjusted the uniform one last time, pulling the cap low over his eyes and rolling up the sleeves as best as he could. He couldn't help but sigh at how ridiculous this all was. 'I really need to plan better next time,' he thought with a mix of embarrassment and determination.

Now, with his disguise in place, Izuku slipped out of the closet, taking a mop and mop bucket with him to truly make disguise more believable. He tried to walk with confidence despite the oversized pants that still threatened to trip him up even if he still had his school uniform inside. Every few steps, he had to tug the waistband back up, but at least he was moving forward.

Izuku shuffled down the hallway, his heart pounding as he spotted two janitors heading straight toward him. He took a deep breath, tugging his cap lower over his face to obscure his features, and tried to appear as casual as possible. 'Just act natural,' he thought, forcing himself to maintain a steady pace.

The janitors, fortunately, were too absorbed in their conversation to pay attention to the odd sight of a too-small boy in a too-big uniform walking by. Anyone who cared to notice would have seen that Izuku stood out far more than he blended in, but the two janitors didn't so much as glance in his direction. As Izuku passed them, one of the janitors footsteps paused, causing Izuku to hold his breath in fear of being caught. But the man only sneezed, muttering something about allergies before continuing on.

Izuku exhaled a long sigh of relief as he finally reached the security office. His heart was still racing, but a small, triumphant grin tugged at the corners of his lips. When he arrived at the door, he carefully peeked through the small open crack to see the security guard, who was supposed to be watching over the cameras, lazily scrolling through his phone while munching on a donut. The guard was clearly more interested in his snack and whatever was on his screen than in the security feeds.

Izuku's breath hitched, his palms trembling as sweat began to bead on his forehead. He had never done anything like this before. Doubts started creeping in, whispering that maybe he should back out, that this was too risky, too extreme. But then, the memories of all the people who had put him down, the ones who had crushed his dreams and made his life a living hell, flooded his mind.

His fist clenched tightly, and with it, his resolve hardened. This wasn't just about the here and now; it was about his future, his new purpose. If he was going to be a villain, he needed to start acting like one.

'No turning back,' Izuku thought, steeling himself as he prepared to make his move. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an invention his minions gave him. It was a carefully crafted makeshift dart gun...in the form of a banana. And the bullet was also in the shape of, get this, a banana. Izuku couldn't help but shake his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. 'I might be off the mark here, but I'm starting to think my minions have a thing for bananas,' he mused.

With one last deep breath, Izuku pushed the door open just enough to get a clear shot. The guard didn't even look up. Izuku aimed carefully, the banana gun feeling awkward and unsteady in his hands.

He fired.

The banana-shaped dart shot out with surprising speed, hitting the guard squarely on the neck. The guard's eyes widened in surprise, his hand instinctively reaching for the dart before he slumped forward, unconscious, his donut falling from his hand.

Izuku stood frozen for a moment, hardly believing that it had actually worked. But there was no time to celebrate. He quickly slipped into the security office and locked the door behind him and carefully moving aside the unconscious guard. He had work to do.

Izuku quickly reached into his pocket, retrieving a small USB device that he had crafted himself. With the unconscious guard slumped over the desk, Izuku plugged the USB into the main monitor. As soon as the device connected, the screen flickered, and a series of codes began scrolling rapidly.

The security system's defenses crumbled almost instantly, bypassed by the hacking program embedded in the USB. Within moments, Izuku had full control over the school's security cameras and alarms.

A triumphant grin spread across his face as he navigated the system with ease. 'This is it,' he thought, the thrill of his first true act of villainy fueling his resolve. With a few keystrokes, Izuku deactivated all the security cameras and alarms, ensuring that no one would interrupt his plan.

After he was done with the security system, he now needs to know where to hide this unconscious body of the guard beside him. Izuku glanced down at the unconscious security guard slumped over the desk. A bead of sweat rolled down his temple as he realized he needed to hide the body before anyone noticed something was amiss. The guard was large and heavy, much bigger than Izuku, and the challenge of moving him seemed daunting.

'Okay, just...need to get him out of sight,' Izuku thought, eyeing the weapon storage closet on the other side of the room. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the guard under the arms and began to pull, but the man's weight was more than he anticipated.

"Hnggh! C'mon, you big guy!" Izuku groaned as he struggled to drag the guard across the floor, his feet slipping as he tried to gain traction. He nearly tripped over his own oversized janitor pants, and the guard's shoes squeaked loudly against the floor, making Izuku wince.

'Come on, just a little more!' Izuku mentally urged himself, but the guard was like dead weight. He tried lifting the guard's legs, hoping it would make it easier, but quickly realized that wasn't going to work either. "Woah!!!" He stumbled backward, almost landing flat on his back, before regaining his balance.

After a few more failed attempts, Izuku opted for a different approach. He positioned himself behind the guard and started pushing with all his might. The guard's body slid inch by inch toward the closet, with Izuku grunting and panting from the effort. By the time he finally got the guard to the closet door, he was practically gasping for air.

'Almost there!' Izuku thought, determination flaring as he shoved the door open and began the final push. With one last burst of strength, he managed to roll the guard into the closet, where the man's body slumped at the bottom of the storage.

"Wooh!" Izuku exhaled as he wiped the sweat from his brow. The tranquilizer was enough to knockout an elephant for 24 hours, so Izuku was sure that the guard wouldn't wake up for another 48 hours. He glanced at the insides of the weapons of the closet and his eyes widened. The sight of the weaponry inside had been a surprise-he hadn't expected a middle school to have such an arsenal. Rifles, batons, even what looked like riot gear-this was way beyond what any school should have, especially a mundane one like Aldera Junior High.

"Huh. So this is where all the school budget went," Izuku muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. He couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all. For a moment, the idea of a school being more prepared for a war than for actual education seemed almost too ridiculous to be real. But then again, this was his school, so maybe it wasn't so surprising after all.

He closed the closet, making sure the door was firmly shut and that the guard's unconscious form was completely hidden from view. Izuku made a mental note of stealing all those weapons later tonight.

With the guard safely out of the way and the security system under his control, Izuku's job here was done as he took back the hacking USB from the monitor. Izuku made sure that it was untraceable. Now, he just needs to get the hell out of here and move on to his next step: Find/make a shit ton of explosive material. He smirked as he felt that his minions would very much like a mission like this.

He quickly removed the oversized janitor uniform, feeling an immense sense of relief as he was free from its constricting and ill-fitting fabric. Stuffing the uniform behind some cleaning supplies, Izuku double-checked his surroundings before heading towards the exit. With the security system down, sneaking out of the school would be a breeze.

But Izuku still made sure to move swiftly and silently through the dimly lit hallways as to avoid any lingering staff or more security. Every step brought him closer to the school's exit and further along the path to complete his first evil deed! The exhilaration of it all made his heart pound in his chest.

Finally, he reached the exit, pushing open the door and stepping out into the cool evening air. He took a moment to breathe it in, relishing the freedom and the thrill of what was to come. As Izuku stepped out of the gates, pausing to look back at the building that had been the source of so much misery in his life. The sight of it, once looming and oppressive, now filled him with a sense of power and anticipation. A dark, mischievous grin spread across his face as his eyes gleamed with malice.

'Enjoy your last miserable day, you pathetic excuse of a school.' He thought, silently bidding farewell to the school that would soon face his wrath. The countdown had begun, and soon, this place would be nothing more than a memory-a memory reduced to ashes.

Izuku fast walked to his motorbike he parked in the nearby secluded alleyway earlier today. Sliding onto the bike, he took a moment to adjust his gloves and rev the engine. The powerful hum of the machine beneath him was a comforting reminder of the control he now held. A large, confident smile formed upon his lips. This school, and everyone in it, had underestimated him for far too long. Now, he was the one pulling the strings.

With one last glance back at Aldera Junior High, a place that had once towered over him as a symbol of his suffering, Izuku felt an exhilarating rush. He revved the engine louder, the sound echoing off the walls of the narrow alley. He was done with this place and from now on, there was no turning back. He kicked the bike into gear and sped off into the night, leaving the school-and his old life-far behind. Because tonight...Aldera will burn!

---

As Izuku arrived back at his current base, a surge of adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he wasted no time. This was it-tonight, everything would change. He entered the hideout-building-sort-of where his minions were already bustling about, engaged in their usual antics.

Without hesitation, he stepped into the center of the room and whistled sharply, instantly grabbing the attention of every yellow-skinned minion in sight. They quickly dropped whatever they were doing, their wide eyes turning to him with eager anticipation.

"Listen up, everyone! I have an announcement to make." Izuku announced, his voice echoing through the chamber. The room fell silent, every minion focused intently on their leader. Within the silence, Izuku smirked. "Now...who's ready to blow some shit up?!" He roared into the crowd with almost wicked smile on his face.

The room erupted into a frenzy of cheers and excited chatter, the minions' enthusiasm filling the underground hideout. They bounced up and down, some waving their tiny arms in the air, while others let out high-pitched squeals of delight. Izuku couldn't help but feel a rush of satisfaction as he watched them, his own excitement mirrored in their reactions. "That's what I like to hear!" Izuku shouted over the din, his smirk widening.

"Now, in order for us to do this, we need lots of things that'll blow up. So, you're very first mission from me is simple: Get some...ex...plo...sives." Izuku paused mid-sentence, his eyes widening in disbelief as he took in the sight before him. Each and every one of his minions was already armed to the teeth with an assortment of explosives-bombs, grenades, TNT, C4, and even a rocket launcher that one of the minions was struggling to hold upright. Where did they get them? Izuku has no idea but he's glad they're prepared.

"Huh. Seems like you guys are more ready for this than I thought..." Izuku muttered, feeling both baffled and impressed by their preparedness. He quickly shook his head, regaining his focus. "Er, anyways, yes! Who wants to come with me?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, the room erupted into chaos.

"ME! ME! ME!"
"PAKA ME!"
"NO, PAKA ME!"
"NO, NO, ME! KA BODZIG!"
"ME!"

Izuku's eyes widened at the overwhelming response, the minions practically vibrating with excitement as they shouted over one another. He raised his hands, trying to calm them down. "Okay, okay...! Alright, enough! Quiet down! S-Simmer down! Simmer down!"

But the minions were too caught up in their eagerness to hear him. Their voices grew louder, the room buzzing with anticipation.

Finally, Izuku had enough. Taking a deep breath, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "SILENCE!!!"

The effect was immediate. Every minion froze, their mouths snapping shut as they stared at him with wide eyes. The room fell into an eerie silence, and Izuku exhaled in relief, feeling a bit more in control again. Izuku surprised even himself with that yell. He didn't think he had it in him!

He faced the crowd once again and cleared his throat. "Alright," he began, his voice calm but commanding. "I obviously can't take all of you with me, so I'm just going to pick a squadron of you." He emphasized, holding up his hand to prevent another surge of eager shouts. "The rest of you will stay here and watch over this place for tonight. Understood?"

The minions nodded in unison, their excitement barely contained as they waited for him to choose.

Izuku sighed, scanning the crowd before starting to call out names. Yes, he was actually learning the names of his minions. "Kevin, Stuart, Jerry, Larry, Tim, Mark, and Phil! You're all with me!" He then turned to another minion. "Mel, you're in charge of the place!"

Mel, the minion with a single eye and a different hairstyle from the rest of his mates, puffed out his chest with pride, giving a sharp salute. "Si, big boss!" He said as the other chosen minions immediately perked up, their faces lighting up with excitement as they gathered around Izuku.

"Alright, team," Izuku said, feeling a surge of confidence. "Let's do this!"

---

Play song/OST: Double life by Pharrell Williams.

---

Before heading out to complete his mission, Izuku decided it was time for a change. He'd been wearing his middle school uniform for the past two days, and it was starting to feel more like a relic of his old life.

He rummaged through his base and discovered a suitable outfit that, surprisingly, was still rather clean despite being tucked away for who knows how long. It consisted of a grey turtleneck, a grey scarf with black stripes, black pants, and polished black shoes. Over it all, he slipped on a black trench coat with a distinctive zipper. 'Hm. Must've belonged to someone before. Don't mind if I do~,' he mused as he examined the coat and now claiming it as his. To complete his ensemble, Izuku donned his custom-made mechanical goggles, which had a futuristic design and were perfect for multiple uses during this mission.

The new look made him feel more like the villain he was determined to become. It was a perfect blend of sophistication and menace, a far cry from his old school uniform. With a satisfied nod, Izuku completed his transformation and prepared to lead his minions on their mission.

Outside, in the dimly lit alleyway, the roar of engines filled the air as well as headlights lit up in the darkness. Izuku's sleek motorbike stood at the ready, and beside him were three mini-versions of his own motorbike, each being ridden by a pair of his minions as Kevin sat with Izuku. The trio of small bikes looked almost comically oversized in contrast to their riders, but they were functional and fit the minions perfectly.

His minions revved their engines in unison with Izuku with their excitement palpable. The night was young, and with a final glance back at his base, Izuku led the charge. The plan was in motion, and the darkness of the night seemed to whisper of the chaos to come.

"Alright, minions," Izuku called over the roar of the engines, his voice sharp and authoritative. "Let's get this done!" His minions responded with a raucous cheer.

"Yeah!!!"
"Woo-hooo!!!"
"Coopee go!"

With a final rev of their engines, Izuku and his squad raced into the night! The dark alleyway quickly disappearing behind them. Their mission was set, and the thrill of impending chaos filled the air as they sped toward Aldera Junior High, ready to set their plan into motion.

But Izuku and his minions didn't speed through the streets recklessly. They maneuvered their way through quiet backstreets and narrow alleyways, carefully avoiding the gaze of any passersby or potential pro heroes. Each turn and route was calculated to keep them out of sight, ensuring that their approach would be as discreet as possible.

Eventually, Izuku and his squad arrived to the school and parked in the same alleyway Izuku parked in earlier today. Izuku and his minions dismounted and approached the entrance of the empty school, the building looming ominously in the moonlight. He turned to his squad, a dangerous glint in his eyes, and announced, "Here we are, boys!"

He took a moment to gaze at the school with a mix of disdain and satisfaction. "Look at this piece of shit," Izuku sneered. Just because he used to never swears, doesn't mean that he doesn't know about these words. His most obsessed bully is Bakugou for Christ sake! And now that he's a villain, he might as well let loose! "We're gonna blow this hellhole sky-high!"

The minions quietly cheered in response, their excitement matching Izuku's own. Their eager voices and small bursts of energy contrasted sharply with the quiet seriousness of their task. Izuku's eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he surveyed his squad's impressive arsenal. He looked down at his minions, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You all got the stuff we need?"

The minions nodded enthusiastically, eager to show off their impressive collection. Larry and Jerry, the more fatter minions, hefted bags brimming with C4, bombs, and TNT. Mark, the average-sized minion with two eyes, carried a flamethrower with a sense of pride, while Phil was expertly juggling a bundle of grenades. Kevin, with his usual air of efficiency, held a gallon of gasoline, and Stuart brandished dual silenced pistols with an almost comical flourish. And Tim had a damn Bazooka.

It was clear that everyone was loaded.

Izuku nodded approvingly. "Looks like we're ready for the big show. Remember, the goal is to make sure this place goes up in flames and doesn't leave a single piece standing."

The minions' eyes sparkled with excitement and mischief as they approached the building, their gear ready for action. Meanwhile, Izuku took a moment to set the scene. He pulled out his phone and slipped on his earphones, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He was gonna destroy this school, but he wanted to have fun while doing it, so he put some style to it! In his earphones, he played the song 'Bad' by Michael Jackson. There was one time when he watched an animated movie from the pre-quirk era that he learned something about villainy. Something that separates a villain from supervillain was presentation!

With the song pumping through his earphones, Izuku followed his minions as they diligently set up explosives around the school. He bobbed his head to the beat and dance-walked towards his school, savoring every moment of his grand spectacle. With the security down, he was free to do whatever he wanted!

Izuku snapped his fingers to the beat, his eyes gleaming with a mix of excitement and malice. He watched with satisfaction as his minions worked diligently, their movements punctuated by the occasional clatter of explosives being set in place.

Ah, your butt is mine~, gon' tell you right, ah~!
Just show your face in broad daylight, ah~!

Izuku made his way through the entrance, his steps syncing with the infectious groove of the song. He threw a few of his own bombs and grenades into classrooms with a flourish, his movements as flamboyant as they were calculated. Inside, his minions were already busy planting explosives.

I'm tellin' you on who I feel, ah~!
Gonna hurt your mind~, don't shoot to kill~!

*BOOM!*

As he turned a corner, a sudden explosion echoed through the building. Phil had accidentally pulled the pin from a grenade while juggling them, causing a shoe locker to erupt in a shower of metal and debris. The unexpected blast made Izuku burst into laughter.

Shamone, ah, shamone~!
Lay it on me~, ah!, alright~!

Izuku continued his flamboyant dance down the hallway, tossing bombs and grenades into each classroom with dramatic flair. His movements were exaggerated, every throw accompanied by a flourish, making the whole scene feel like a twisted, high-energy performance.

The school was now a stage for his grand performance, and Izuku was determined to leave it in ruins, all while grooving to his favorite song. The minions, equally caught up in the excitement, continued their work, the night's events unfolding with explosive flair. He was destroying his school...while dancing.

And Izuku reveled in the chaos, his movements synchronized with the beat. As he tossed another bomb into a classroom, he couldn't help but smile at the irony. He was destroying the institution that had once tormented him, all while dancing to a song that embodied his newfound sense of freedom and rebellion. The night was his, and he intended to make it unforgettable.

I'm tellin' you, just watch your mouth, ah~!
I know your game, what you're about~!

As he continued to dance, Kevin followed behind him, throwing his own grenades inside the classrooms with a manic grin and wild laughter as well as trying to mimic his leader's dancing moves. The minions worked in sync, setting up more charges and adding to the spectacle of destruction. When the chorus of the song hit its peak, Izuku struck a pose just as the grenades exploded in unison, the blasts lighting up the darkened school in a synchronized show of chaos.

But, my friend, you have seen nothin'! Just wait 'til I get through! Because I'm bad, I'm bad, shamone (bad, bad, really, really bad)
You know I'm bad, I'm bad (bad, bad)
You know it (really, really bad)

And the whole world has to answer right now just to tell you once again; Who's bad?

With the second verse reaching his ears, Izuku made his way to the security room. He kicked the door open with a flourish, the forceful entrance befitting the villain he had become. Inside, the room was dimly lit, the control panels casting an eerie glow on the walls.

"Kevin, Stuart!" Izuku called, his voice commanding. "Get all the weapons from the storage room. I want everything useful out of it!"

Kevin and Stuart didn't hesitate. With a quick nod, they dashed off to the storage room, eager to retrieve the stash of weapons. The two minions returned moments later, dragging out an assortment of weapons in their backpacks, from batons to tasers, with mischievous grins plastered on their faces.

As the two minions exited the room, their backpacks laden with the confiscated weapons, Izuku extended his hand toward Larry, who promptly handed him a grenade. Izuku's lips curled into a wicked smirk as he pulled the pin without hesitation. With a casual toss, he hurled the grenade into the security room, indifferent to the fate of the guard inside.

The door clicked shut just as the explosion erupted behind him, the blast sending shockwaves through the hallway. But Izuku didn't flinch. Instead, he resumed his dance-walking, the rhythm of the song still pulsing in his ears as he made his way toward the principal's office.

Once arriving, he reached the door of the office and gave it a forceful kick open. The door flew open with a loud crash, slamming against the wall. Izuku stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the flickering lights and the distant glow of the fires now consuming parts of the school. The principal's office, a place that had once held authority and intimidation over him, now felt small and insignificant under his gaze.

Stepping inside, Izuku scanned the room, taking in the desk cluttered with papers, the shelves lined with books and awards, and the principal's chair-empty and devoid of the power it once represented. The irony wasn't lost on him; this was the same office where he had been reprimanded, belittled, and made to feel worthless.

But not tonight. Tonight, he was in control.

Izuku pressed a button on his goggles, activating the x-ray vision. As he scanned the room, his eyes narrowed with interest when he spotted a hidden safe tucked behind the principal's desk. 'Interesting~,' he thought, already calculating the amount of money it might hold. Without hesitation, he barked out orders, his voice sharp and authoritative.

"Larry, Tim! Haul that safe out of here!" he commanded, pointing to the concealed treasure. The two minions sprang into action, scrambling over to the desk to begin the heavy lifting.

"Jerry, plant more bombs around the room! I want this place in ruins!" Jerry nodded eagerly, setting to work with a gleeful grin, carefully positioning the explosives for maximum damage.

"And Kevin," Izuku added, turning to the minion with the gasoline, "lay down a trail from this office to the school entrance. We're gonna make sure this place lights up like a firework show!"

Kevin gave a mischievous salute, already unscrewing the cap of the gasoline container and beginning to pour a steady line across the floor.

Izuku watched his minions work, satisfied with their efficiency. The safe would be a nice bonus to this operation, a small reward for the chaos he was about to unleash. With everything in motion, the final phase of his plan was falling perfectly into place.

As Izuku glanced down at the papers scattered across the principal's desk, his curiosity got the better of him. What could the principal possibly have to say about him and Bakugou, the school's so-called star student? With a smirk, he shuffled through the documents, quickly skimming the contents.

There were reports, evaluations, and notes from teachers. Most of them were predictable-praise for Bakugou's "raw potential", "powerful quirk", and "natural leadership," accompanied by little comments about his explosive temper. The green-haired boy had to roll his eyes and scoff. But when he found a file with his own name on it, Izuku's smirk faded into a cold, hard expression.

The words were harsh, dismissive. "Quirkless." "Unremarkable." "No future prospects." It was clear the school had written him off as a failure, a nobody destined to amount to nothing.

A bitter laugh escaped Izuku's lips. "Of course," he muttered. "All that praise for someone like him... and nothing but disdain for me." He crumpled the papers in his hand, feeling a mix of anger and satisfaction.

"Well, let's see how they feel about their 'star student' when this place is reduced to ashes."

With that, he tossed the papers aside and continued overseeing the preparations for the destruction of the school. After his minions were out of the room, Izuku followed suit but not before he took one last look around. The principal's office, once a symbol of authority, was now a ticking time bomb.

After everything was set, the group rendezvoused back at the entrance, just as Kevin finished spilling the last of the gasoline. Izuku smirked, the thrill of impending chaos coursing through him. "Stuart, light it up," he commanded. The one-eyed minion grinned, flourishing his suppressed gun before firing at the gasoline trail, igniting a fierce blaze. He also ordered for those who had the stolen weapons and the safe to store it in the motorbikes.

As the flames began to spread, Izuku's eyes fell on the school's board near the entrance. A risky idea popped into his head, and he found himself debating whether or not to leave a mark of his villainous debut, even after all the work he did covering his tracks. After a considerable amount of time internally arguing, he caved in. 'Fuck it. They do say that you should present your first act of villainy loud and proud!' Izuku thought. Who said that? He had no idea-he might've just made it up, but it sounded right.

Grabbing a can of spray paint, Izuku approached the board. With a flourish, he scrawled across it in bold, jagged letters: 'The rise of Deku is here!'

Stepping back, he admired his handiwork. The flames reflected in his eyes as he turned to his minions. "Let's get out of here," he ordered, the adrenaline pumping as they raced away from the school and hiding behind the corner of the alleyway that they parked their motorbikes in. Izuku looked down and nodded to Larry to press the detonator on his hand.

Everyone covered their ears, preparing themselves for the barrage of explosions after Larry pressed the button. They waited until...nothing happened.

"Huh? Que piklo? Po ka hmmrid pik go dak?" Jerry muttered, confused as to why the explosions didn't go off.

"Larry! To yak pik!" Tim accused, pointing at Larry, thinking he had messed up or broken the detonator.

"Ka deep non ich pik!" Larry shot back, defending himself and insisting he hadn't broken anything. The two of them began to argue, slapping each other with their tiny hands in a comical fashion. Their bickering grew louder as Izuku tried to intervene and calm them down, his patience wearing thin-

*BOOM!*
*KABOOM!*

The delayed explosions suddenly roared to life, shaking the ground beneath them. The school erupted in a series of massive blasts, debris flying through the air as fire consumed the building. The force of the explosions was so intense that even from their safe distance, they could feel the heat and the rumble of the ground.

Izuku couldn't help but laugh, the tension evaporating as he watched the school collapse in a blazing inferno. "Heh, looks like it just needed a little more time," he said with a smirk and a nervous laugh, taking in the fiery spectacle. "Alright, time to go, guys!" he called out, and with that, the entire crew hurried to their motorbikes.

As they sped away from the scene, the roar of their engines echoing through the night, Izuku caught the faint sound of sirens in the distance. The corners of his mouth curled into a smug, confident smirk. He had done it-he'd made his mark, and now more people would know the name Deku.

With the flames of his former school fading into the distance, Izuku felt a rush of exhilaration. He wasn't just running from the scene; he was racing toward a future he'd shaped with his own hands.

As Izuku drove through the night, the full moon illuminated the road ahead. He took a brief moment to glance up at it, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. 'So this is what it's like to be a villain, huh? It's not too bad.' He thought. His first despicable deed had been a resounding success, and the moon seemed to shine in approval of his audacious act. Izuku felt an exhilarating sense of accomplishment. This was only the beginning of his reign, and the night sky was the perfect backdrop for his newfound villainous journey.

Soon enough, he will make sure that the world will know his name and he will be the greatest, most ultimate supervillain!

He swears it!

---

The next morning, Katsuki Bakugou awoke from his slumber, grumpy as usual. His eyes snapped open, his usual scowl already forming as the morning light filtered through the curtains. As he set at the edge of his bed, he hears his damn old hag call out to him. "Oi, brat! Wake up!" His mother yelled at him from the kitchen at the bottom floor. "I'm already awake, you old hag!" The arrogant blonde snapped back.

"Get down here right now! There's something you have to see!" His mother yelled. Katsuki raised a brow, both confused and annoyed. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, already dreading whatever his mother had to say. 'I swear, if this is about my fucking grades again...!' He thought in irritation. Katsuki dragged himself out of bed, his frustration mounting with each step. The morning was turning out to be just as annoying as he'd feared.

He stomped down the stairs, grumbling under his breath. "What the hell is it this time?!" he snapped as he entered the kitchen, where his parents stood in front if the television watching the news, their faces a mix of worry and disbelief. Katsuki took a bottle of water from the kitchen counter as he approached his parents to find out what all this damn fuss about so early in the morning.

"Look at this!" His mother exclaimed, pointing at the news. "There was a huge explosion at your school last night. They're saying it's some kind of attack!" On the television, the headlines read: 'Aldera Junior High school in Musutafu burned down and destroyed. Culprit on the search.'

Katsuki's eyes widen. He had never been more hooked onto the news in his life until now. Out of everything, this was not what he expected to witness when he woke up. For possibly the first time in his life, he was in absolute disbelief as he in stunned silence. He even blinked multiple times as to make sure he wasn't still dreaming.

"W-What the hell...?!" In an absolute rarity, Katsuki actually stuttered as his mind raced, trying to figure out who the hell did this. As he watched the news report, he noticed the anchor revealing that the only casualty was a security guard, which brought a look of sadness and dismay to his parents' faces. However, Katsuki paid no mind to that and demanded to know who was the goddamn villain who did this since they also revealed that this was a villains debut.

"The villain who did this calls himself as 'Deku.' Pro heroes and law enforcement are currently finding any sort of information on the culprit and who might be familiar with this name." The news reporter on the television revealed.

Katsuki choked on his drink.

Chapter Text

Izuku spent the night in his temporary base once again. Yes, temporary. After his explosive act of villainy last night, he knew his time here was limited. The pro heroes would soon zero in on him, and it wouldn't be long before this place was raided. Izuku sat on a worn-out couch, surrounded by the faint glow of computer screens and gadgets as well as empty bottles and cans of soft drinks and leftovers of food. He had celebrated hard with his minions last night.

His mind began racing with thoughts of what to do next. He had to be smart. He had to stay one step ahead. That was his next plan of action for today: find or create a large, secret base for himself and his minions. Somewhere they could operate without the fear of being discovered so easily.

The problem now was a matter of transportation. After the destruction of the school, Izuku knew he couldn't use his motorbike and speed through secluded areas and alleyways anymore. The pro heroes would be on high alert, their eyes sharp and their patrols more frequent. Izuku couldn't risk coming across an underground hero or, worse, getting trapped by one.

'What a pain,' he thought, frowning at the challenge. If only he could fly. The thought lingered, and a small smile crept onto his face. Maybe that should be his next invention: a jetpack or some form of transportation that allowed him to take to the skies. With that, he could evade ground-based detection entirely, adding another layer of unpredictability and variety to his movements.

"Yeah," he mused aloud, already envisioning the designs in his mind. "That could work."

But before he could get started on that, he needed to secure a new base of operations. The abandoned factory he had in mind wasn't too far, but getting there unnoticed would be tricky. He needed to move fast and smart.

Deku suddenly sighed, hanging his head low in dejection as he remembered one last thing he needed to do. As much as he hated the thought of seeing his mother again—especially after the huge argument they had the other night and the heart-shattering words she'd thrown at him—he had to go home one last time. There were still a few of his inventions lurking in his room, items he couldn't afford to leave behind.

And there were a few things he needed to say to her. Words that had been stuck in his throat ever since their fight. Words that he had been wanting to say to her after almost a decade of pent up emotions because of her emotional abuse and neglect.

He clenched his fists, steeling himself for what he knew would be a difficult and emotional encounter. But it was necessary. This was part of the final break from his old life, from everything that had held him back and hurt him. If he was going to fully embrace his new identity as a villain, he needed to sever all ties, including the ones that still tugged at his heart to finally be free of his past.

Deku eventually exited the room to see his minions already buzzing with activity, both productive and non-productive. "M-Minions! Listen up! I have an important announcement to make!" Izuku called out, his voice echoing through the room. He was still new to this crowd-speaking and barking out orders, but he was starting to get used to it.

"We are going to be moving out," he declared, his voice growing more confident with each word. "Pack everything up! We need to be out of here as soon as possible. I've been scouting out potential new bases, but until I've secured it, we'll be on the move. And until then, I need all of you to lay low. No unnecessary noise, no drawing attention. Understand?"

The minions nodded enthusiastically, their chatter quickly turning to focused activity as they began packing up the various gadgets, weapons, and supplies scattered around the base.

Izuku watched them work, his mind already racing ahead to the next steps. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes. The heroes would be on high alert after the school incident, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they started closing in. Now, it is the matter of transportation that would be suitable and inconspicuous. Izuku decided to use a company van that belonged to this building he saw before the minions came and redecorated it. It would be perfect!

Once he reached the van, he noticed a couple of minions making some final touches to it. They worked diligently, polishing the exterior, checking the engine, and ensuring the van looked as ordinary as possible. When they were done, Izuku took a step back to admire their handiwork. The company van looked clean, unremarkable, and in perfect working condition—a stark contrast to the dilapidated state it was in before.

His lips curled into an impressed smirk. "Man, you guys work quick," he commented, genuinely pleased by his minions' efficiency. Their ability to get things done, especially under pressure, was becoming one of their greatest assets.

The minions beamed with pride at the praise, some even giving little salutes or bowing theatrically. It was clear they were eager to impress their leader, and Izuku couldn't help but feel a swell of pride in his odd but loyal team.

While the rest of the minions were busy preparing and packing up the base, Izuku decided to take a pair of the minions—the ones who had cleaned the van—with him to begin the drive. Time was limited, and he knew they needed to move quickly.

As they settled into the van, Izuku's mind drifted to the inevitable confrontation with his mother. The thought of going back home, even for a brief moment, brought a bitter taste to his mouth. But he pushed those feelings aside; there was no room for hesitation or second-guessing now.

"Next stop," Izuku muttered to himself, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, "home." He said, trying to hide the bitterness inside as he began to drive.

The minions in the back remained cheerful and oblivious to the storm of emotions swirling within him. Their excitement was almost contagious, but Izuku kept his focus on the road ahead. The bitterness lingered, but he buried it deep, knowing that this was something he had to do. There were still things he needed from home—tools, inventions, and most importantly, closure.

As they drove through the busy streets at the day and remaining inconspicuous, Izuku couldn't help but think about the last conversation he had with his mother, the harsh words exchanged, and the hurt that still lingered. But this time, he wasn't going back as the same Izuku Midoriya. He was going back as Deku, the villain who would soon make the world remember his name!

---

Inko Midoriya knew that she was not a good person.

Ever since her husband left and the day that Izuku was diagnosed as Quirkless, life had taken a sharp downward turn. The once bright and hopeful future she had envisioned for her family had crumbled, leaving her feeling trapped and overwhelmed. The stress of her job had become unbearable, and she found herself taking refuge in increasingly frequent conversations with her old friend Mitsuki. But even those conversations offered little solace, especially when her son's hopeless obsession with becoming a hero—a dream that seemed impossible without a Quirk—was thrown into the mix.

The school reports only added to her despair. They painted a picture of a boy who was not just Quirkless but also a troublemaker, constantly causing problems and drawing negative attention. Inko couldn't reconcile this image with the son she had once adored. It was as if the world was mocking her, giving her a child who, in her eyes, could never amount to anything.

She couldn't believe that she had given birth to someone so...worthless.

And so, Inko began to withdraw. The weight of her disappointments and regrets grew too heavy to bear, and she found herself turning to alcohol to numb the pain. It became a crutch, something to help her escape the reality she didn't want to face. The more she drank, the more she distanced herself from Izuku. She couldn't bear to look at him, couldn't stand the reminder of all the things she had lost.

Ignoring him became easier and easier. She told herself that it was better this way—that if she didn't acknowledge him, maybe the pain would lessen. Maybe she could forget the life that could have been. But deep down, she knew the truth. She knew she was failing him, failing herself.

However, on this particular day, she actually felt...concerned about her son for the first time. The news had spread quickly—his school had been reduced to rubble, engulfed in flames and destruction. As much as she resented him, the thought of losing him completely sent a chill down her spine. Sure she hated him, but she didn't want him dead.

Those awful words echoed in her mind, 'I wish you were never born!' Inko froze, her heart sinking as the memory of that night resurfaced. The look on his face, the shock, the hurt—it all came rushing back, and she felt a pang of guilt that nearly brought her to her knees. She growled as she re-composed herself. Was this the universe telling her a sign or something?

The throbbing in Inko's head intensified, a painful reminder of her recent indulgences. She sighed, pushing the half-empty bottle of sake away. Maybe it was time to lay off the alcohol and face the reality she'd been avoiding for so long—her son.

She was startled to realize that she hadn't seen Izuku since their explosive argument. An entire day had passed, and she had simply assumed he was off doing whatever it was he did to escape reality. Inko realized that she had never bothered to truly understand what her son did in his free time, beyond his relentless pursuit of a hero dream that seemed more like a delusion to her.

But now, with the news of the school's destruction flashing across the television screen, a deep worry began to creep into her heart. What if something had happened to him? What if he had been at the school during the attack?

Because of this, she knew that her son would be living at home for a while until they've rebuilt it or found a school to switch to. She sighed. Maybe this was indeed the universe's sign of telling her to regain some sort of semblance of their relationship or at least...try.

Suddenly, the door of her apartment swung open, making Inko think that she must've forgotten to lock it, and the familiar face of her son entered the room. 'Huh. Speak of the devil.' She mused.

However when she went and finally met him face to face, her eyes widen at how different he looked. Gone was the boy she remembered in his school uniform; standing before her was someone entirely different, draped in black from head to toe. His polished shoes, zipped-up black trench coat, striped scarf, and support goggles all contributed to a menacing aura that filled the room.

But it wasn't just his clothes that had changed. It was his eyes—dark, filled with such an unbearable amount of hatred and disdain, and all of it was directed at her. Inko had never seen her son look at her in such a way. Her breath caught in her throat as she met his gaze, the bitterness between them now palpable.

Inko gulped as she finally regained her voice. "I-Izuku..." she whispered, her voice almost trembling. "What...what happened to you?" She asked, desperately trying to strike up a conversation, to bridge the chasm that had grown between them.

But her son didn't even acknowledge her. Without so much as a glance in her direction, he walked right past her, his steps purposeful and cold. She turned, watching him as he moved through the apartment and toward his room, searching for something. The realization that he wasn't here to talk, or even to see her, struck her with a painful clarity.

However, she paid closer attention to what he was carrying and wearing. Inko's heart pounded in her chest as she watched her son move with a cold determination she had never seen before. The large duffel bag slung over his shoulder, the gloves on his hands, and the dark, ominous outfit—it all screamed danger. Her thoughts raced, the news of the school's destruction replaying in her mind like a nightmare.

'No... it couldn't be..!' she thought, panic rising in her throat. The pieces of the puzzle began to fit together in a way that terrified her. Izuku, her son, had something to do with the school attack. The realization was like a slap to the face, leaving her stunned and breathless.

"Izuku," she called out, her voice trembling with fear and desperation, "what...what are you doing?"

But he didn't stop, didn't even hesitate as he continued toward his room, as if her words were nothing more than background noise and entered his room. Inko, still paralyzed by shock, struggled with whether she should follow him or not. Her heart pounded in her chest, the reality of the situation sinking in.

Inside his room, Izuku moved swiftly and methodically. He rifled through his closet, dug under his bed, and searched every secret spot he had used to hide his inventions. He glanced around at the room that had been his home his whole life for one final time. He especially made a glare at all the All Might figurines. HIs room was now a stark reminder of a life he was leaving behind. The mementos of his past seemed almost alien to him now.

After what felt like an eternity, Izuku emerged from his room with a duffel bag visibly stuffed with his belongings. His expression was resolute and unfeeling as he made his way to the front door.

Inko, overwhelmed by a mix of fear and regret, reached out and grabbed his sleeve, her voice trembling as she struggled to speak out her words. "Izuku, please, talk to me. W-What's happening? I...I want to help you. I'm-AH!"

She was harshly cut off, however, as Izuku's response was swift and harsh. Without a second glance, he turned and slapped her hand away with a force that left her reeling. The look in his eyes was cold and unyielding, as if she were nothing more than a bug to him.

Izuku's disdainful glare deepened and darkened, his rage boiling over. 'Help? Now she wants to help me?! Now she cares?!?' he seethed internally, his thoughts fueled by outrage and betrayal. 'After everything she's said and done, she thinks she can just waltz in and fix this?!'

Izuku's fists clenched and his teeth gritted as he finally decided to let loose the pent-up emotions he had been harboring for almost a decade. His voice was low but seething with venom as he spoke the words he had long kept buried.

 "Mom...I hate you. I hate, hate, hate! Hate! HATE! HATE! HATE YOU!!!"

Izuku's voice trembled with the intensity of his emotions, each word laced with the pain and resentment he had been forced to bury for years. His eyes, filled with tears he refused to let fall, bore into his mother's as he unleashed the torrent of feelings he had long kept hidden.

"No, you don't get to care about me now!" he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his hurt. "Not after what you told me the other night! Not after years of you pretending that I didn't exist!"

He took a step closer, his anger burning hotter with each passing second. "Where were you when I was getting jumped by Bakugou and his friends everyday, huh? Where were you when they made my life a living hell, day after day? You didn't even notice the bruises, the cuts, the burns—nothing!"

Izuku's hands trembled as he continued, his voice rising. "Where were you when school was taking a toll on me, when I was drowning in despair because I didn't have a Quirk? You were too busy feeling sorry for yourself to see how much your son was hurting! YOU'RE PATHETIC!"

His voice broke, the anger and pain melding together in a raw, emotional outburst. "Where were you when I needed your help, Mom?! When I needed someone to tell me that I was worth something, that I could be more than just Quirkless trash that everyone in this world has deemed me?! You were supposed to be there for me, but you weren't! You never were!"

As Izuku's words rang out, the weight of his pain hung in the air like a storm cloud. His tears, a mixture of anger and sorrow, streamed down his face, each drop a testament to the years of neglect and hurt he had endured. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, the intensity of his emotions almost too much to bear.

Inko, paralyzed by the raw fury in her son's voice, could only watch in stunned silence. Every word he spoke cut through her, the reality of her failures as a mother hitting her like a ton of bricks. She had never seen him like this, had never realized just how deeply she had wounded him until now.

Izuku's breathing was ragged as he glared at her one last time, his eyes burning with a mixture of hatred, rage, sadness and despair. "All I ever wanted was for you to care, to at least pretend that you gave a damn about me! But no, you were too busy drowning in your own misery to even see me!"

The room was silent except for the sound of Izuku's heavy breathing. He took a moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to regain some semblance of control over his emotions. When he spoke again, his voice was filled with finality, a devastating blend of fury and despair that left no room for reconciliation.

"I'm done with you," he declared, his voice breaking slightly but carrying an unshakable resolve. "I'm done with this place. I'm going to make a name for myself, and I don't need you or your approval. I absolutely fucking despise you with every fiber of my being, and I'm leaving. Goodbye."

Without waiting for a response, Izuku turned on his heel and stormed out of the apartment, the sound of the door slamming shut behind him echoing through the silent space. Inko was left standing there, the emptiness of the apartment mirroring the emptiness in her heart, as the reality of what she had lost finally set in.

Inko Midoriya collapsed to the floor, her knees giving out beneath her as the weight of her son's words bore down on her. The tears she had held back for so long finally broke free, streaming down her face in a torrent of anguish. Her body trembled with sobs as the reality of what had just happened hit her like a tidal wave.

She concluded that this was her consequence. Her karma for taking her son's life for granted and neglecting him ever since that day he was diagnosed Quirkless. She might have not faced any sort of legal or physical repercussions, but this tsunami of pain, sorrow and guilt felt more than excruciating. And she knew that she deserved every bit of it.

---

Izuku walked away from the apartment, his heart lighter than it had been in years. The burden of unspoken words, of pent-up rage and sorrow, had finally been lifted. He had said what he needed to say, severed the last tie that held him back. There was no going back now, and he didn't want to.

As he stepped out into the cool morning air, he took a deep breath, letting the sensation of freedom wash over him. It was almost surreal—the idea that he had finally cut himself loose from the pain and neglect that had defined his life for so long. The world ahead was vast and uncertain, but for the first time, he felt ready to face it on his own terms.

His thoughts raced as he considered the possibilities before him. What would his next move be? How would he build his reputation as a supervillain? The path ahead was uncertain, but that didn't deter him. If anything, it fueled his determination. Izuku had always been driven, always pushing himself to go beyond his limits, and now that drive was focused on his new life goal of being the world's best and most ultimate supervillain.

He knew it wouldn't be easy. Unlike the side of heroes, the world of villains was cutthroat, filled with dangers he had only begun to understand. But just like with his inventions, Izuku was ready to put in the work, to go beyond Plus Ultra to succeed. He would take on whatever challenges came his way, learning and adapting as he went.

Izuku's steps quickened as he approached the van where his pair of minions were waiting. He felt a surge of energy, a fire burning inside him that hadn't been there before. There was no turning back now, and that was just how he wanted it.

As he climbed into the van, the sound of the door closing felt like the final seal on his old life. The engine roared to life, and as they drove away from the apartment complex, Izuku didn't look back. There was no need to. Everything he needed was ahead of him, and he was ready to claim it.

With each passing moment, Izuku grew more certain of one thing: he felt ready to conquer whatever came his way, and nothing would stand in his path!

---

The morning after the explosion at Aldera Junior High, the once-bustling school was nothing more than a smoldering ruin. The site was cordoned off, police tape fluttering in the breeze as investigators and pro heroes arrived at the scene. The air was thick with the acrid smell of burnt debris, and the sight of the collapsed building was sobering.

Underground Pro hero Eraserhead stood at the forefront of the investigation team, his eyes narrowed as he surveyed the destruction. His usually calm demeanor showed hints of concern—this wasn't just any incident, but a deliberate attack that had targeted a school full of innocent students. Whoever did this had crossed a line that no one should ever cross.

Beside him, Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi was already busy coordinating with the police force. He was a seasoned detective, known for his ability to extract the truth from even the most complicated situations. His quirk, 'Lie Detector,' allowed him to sense when someone was being dishonest, making him a valuable asset in this investigation.

"The initial reports suggest that this was a deliberate act," Tsukauchi said, his voice steady despite the chaos around them. "The explosion wasn't caused by a malfunction or accident. This was planned."

Eraserhead nodded grimly, his dark eyes scanning the wreckage. "Any leads on who this 'Deku' might be?" he asked, recalling the menacing message left on the school board.

Tsukauchi nodded, his expression serious. "According to the students, 'Deku' is a nickname for a student at the school—Izuku Midoriya. They say he's been bullied for years, primarily by another student named Katsuki Bakugou."

Eraserhead nodded his head, a bit satisfied that they already have zeroed in on the identity of the culprit. His eyes narrowed. "Are we looking at a case of revenge then? A student pushed too far?"

"Since there are no other factors yet discovered, yes," Tsukauchi replied, his voice tinged with caution. "If this was an act of retaliation, it could mean Midoriya has crossed a line. We need to find and apprehend this Izuku Midoriya and talk to him before he commits more and more acts like this." The detective explained.

Eraserhead's expression remained stoic, but there was an underlying urgency in his voice as he asked, "Do you know why he was bullied?"

"They said that he was bullied because he was Quirkless," Tsukauchi answered.

Eraserhead's eyes widened in rare surprise. "Quirkless?" He repeated, the weight of that word settling heavily in the air. A quirkless teenager—someone who, by societal standards, was considered powerless—had caused this level of destruction. It was almost unimaginable.

"And he was capable of this type of destruction?" Eraserhead added, his mind racing to process the implications. If a quirkless person could do this, it meant Midoriya had found a way to level the playing field, or worse, to tip it entirely in his favor.

"Then, we can't underestimate him," Eraserhead concluded, his tone now more resolute. "This isn't just a case of revenge—this is a declaration. We need to stop him before he goes any further."

"Indeed," Tsukauchi nodded seriously, pulling up a file on his tablet that displayed a profile of Inko Midoriya, Izuku's mother. "Our first step should be to question the person closest to him. If anyone knows where he might be or what he's planning next, it's her."

---

Deku sighed, feeling the weight of the day's failures pressing down on him. The shady underworld he'd tried to infiltrate was proving more resistant than he'd anticipated. No one took him seriously, and every lead seemed to end in mockery and laughter. However, there was one person who seemed to take an interest in him—Giran, Deku belived his name was. He recalled the conversation he had with the man, who had offered to lend him some help in exchange for a few 'favors'.

He even lent Deku his business card. The one he's currently holding in his hand before putting it back in his pocket. Izuku felt all sorts of bad and suspicious energy from the guy...which is what he had expected since he went all around going into shady place and meeting shady people, but he was different! And Deku had a feeling that Giran was bad company and he definitely shouldn't get too much into contact with him. But he kept the card just in case things get desperate.

Parking his van in an alleyway, he leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes in frustration. Things just weren't going as smoothly as he hoped. After a moment, he opened his eyes and glanced into the rearview mirror. The two minions he had brought along, oblivious to the tension, were engrossed in a card game, their casual demeanor a stark contrast to the stress Deku was feeling.

He sighed before speaking up, "You two. What are your names?" The minions looked up from their game, surprised by the sudden question. "Mi nomba tis Joey!" One answered. "K'am Tony!" Said the other one.

"Got any ideas?" He asked. After a long, exaggerated and comical gestures of contemplating, they both couldn't come up with anything and shrugged while blowing a raspberry. Deku let out a dry chuckle. 'I should've known,' he thought. After knowing his minions for quite a while, he should've known that these little guys would not be the most sharpest tools in the shed.

Needing to clear his mind and curious about the aftermath of his actions, Deku reached over and turned on the van's radio. Static filled the air for a moment before it settled on a news station, the announcer's voice cutting through the noise.

"...and in breaking news, authorities are still investigating the devastating explosion at Aldera Junior High School. Early reports suggest that the incident was no accident, but a calculated act of destruction. Several eyewitnesses claim to have seen a figure in black fleeing the scene shortly before the blast occurred. The figure left behind a chilling message: 'The rise of Deku is here!'"

Deku's grip tightened on the steering wheel as he listened, a mix of satisfaction and anxiety brewing inside him as his message had been received and told. Now people will now be familiar with the name Deku!

"'Deku', whom authorities have found out to be a young man named Izuku Midoriya, is on the run and is responsible for this heinous crime. However, one can't help but question why he did such a thing, especially for someone so young. After further investigating, the authorities had concluded that this was a case of bullying gone too far. Let us cut to the people of Aldera to see what they have to say." The reporter said.

Deku felt a mixture of intrigue, and cautious as the news then cut off to audio of the people of Aldera being interviewed and interrogated. Deku couldn't help but grit his teeth as he listened to what they were saying.

"I don't know why he did it. He's always been such a nice person." Said one student.

"I've always thought that he wanted to be a hero more than anything, so I don't know why he would do something like this!" Said another.

"I have no idea what his reasoning for this. He had always wanted to be a hero." Said his goddamn homeroom teacher. Izuku knew because he recognized his patronizing voice. He continued to seethe as more and more similar comments were said.

Deku's hands trembled with rage as he listened to the comments pouring in from his former schoolmates and teachers. Each word felt like a slap in the face, a twisted reminder of the falsehoods and hypocrisy that had surrounded him his entire life.

"He was such a good person."

"He wanted to be a hero."

The words echoed in his mind, their patronizing tone gnawing at him. How dare they pretend to care now? Where was this so-called concern when he was suffering, when he was being tormented and ridiculed every single day? Or when they themselves had used him as some sort of quirk ragdoll?! They had turned a blind eye to his pain, dismissed him as nothing more than a quirkless nobody. And now they acted surprised, shocked that he had finally snapped.

Eventually, Izuku had enough and shut the radio off. The audacity of these people!

Deku exasperated once again. Great. Now, his mood was worse than before. Slumping back in his seat, he blew a raspberry, trying to shake off the negative emotions swirling inside him. He desperately needed a break, something to take his mind off the mess he was in. As he glanced down at the door pocket, an old magazine caught his eye. Curious and needing a distraction, he picked it up and began flipping through the pages.

After skimming past a few ads and articles, a picture of a beach caught his attention. It was Takoba Beach, described in the magazine as a serene paradise—a place where people could escape the stress of daily life and find peace. The vibrant image of the sandy shores and gentle waves seemed to promise a respite from everything that was weighing him down.

Deku's eyes sparkled with a hint of intrigue. A peaceful walk on the beach sounded like exactly what he needed to clear his mind and sort out his thoughts. Maybe, just maybe, it would help him come up with a good plan—a way to move forward and achieve his goals.

"Alright," he muttered to himself, feeling a small sense of resolve building within him. "Let's take a break. Maybe this beach will help me think clearly."

He started the van and directed himself and his minions to Takoba Beach. As they drove, Deku felt a sliver of hope that this brief escape would give him the clarity he needed. Perhaps a peaceful moment by the ocean would be just the thing to calm his turbulent mind and inspire his next move.

Sure, this may have been a more than reckless move now that authorities are keeping their eyes peeled for him and that the public has been informed of what he looks like, but it was just for a short while! He needs this!

It couldn't have been a bad idea!

---

...Well this is a bad idea.

Deku's brow twitched as he saw the pitiful sight of the beach, or rather...what's left of it. His eyes scanned all over the beach to see it all filled with all kind of dump and trash. It may as well be a junkyard rather than a beach.

"So much for a peaceful escape, huh..." Deku muttered to himself, his disappointment palpable. He had hoped this trip would give him a moment of clarity, a brief reprieve from the chaos of his life. But instead, he was met with yet another obstacle—a literal garbage dump standing between him and any sense of peace.

His minions, Joey and Tony, peeked out from the van, looking equally dismayed at the sight of the trashed beach. "Blech!" Joey commented, sticking out his tongue in disgust. "No via nama pem pata da relax aca, Deku!" He said.

"Yeah, ba lugo stinks!" Tony added on, covering his mouth. Izuku still may have not understood what they were saying, but he could definitely tell that they were feeling what he was feeling.

Deku couldn't help but agree. This was a far cry from the idyllic spot he had imagined. But then, as he stood there, staring at the heaps of garbage, a thought crossed his mind. Maybe this beach, in its current state, wasn't entirely useless. Maybe, just maybe, there was something he could do here that would help him in the long run.

"Alright," Deku said, his mind starting to shift gears. "So it's a dump. But that doesn't mean we can't make something out of it." Joey and Tony looked at him with curious expressions, clearly not following.

"What if..." Deku began, his voice trailing off as he started to piece together an idea. "What if we clean it up? And use all of this material to make our own base and perhaps many more?" He suggested as ideas of designs of base, inventions, and even vehicles were already cooking up in his genius mind.

However, just as he was getting pumped up about finally having a plan of what to do, the reality sank in. Building an entire secret base, even with his army of minions, is going to take a long time and with the pro heroes being on his tail, time was not something Izuku had lots of. He would need another temporary base big enough to haul him and all of his minions to stay in for the time being while also laying low until his base was built.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the business card that Giran gave him. He knew that dealing with someone like Giran was a risky move. The man had a shady aura that made Izuku's instincts scream at him to stay away. But with the heroes closing in and his options running out, he felt like he had no choice.

With a deep sigh, Izuku slipped the card back into his pocket, feeling the weight of the decision settle in his gut. "I better not regret this..." he muttered to himself, his voice laced with uncertainty.

He pulled out his phone and dialed the number on the card. The phone rang twice before a familiar, smooth voice answered on the other end.

"Well, well, if it isn't the young mastermind," Giran greeted, his tone dripping with amusement. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Izuku took a deep breath, pushing aside the unease gnawing at him. "I need a place," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Something big enough for me and...my associates. It needs to be secure, off the radar, and available immediately."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Giran chuckled. "I figured you'd come around, kid. I've got just the place in mind. But remember, favors like this don't come cheap."

"I know," Izuku replied, his grip tightening on the phone. "We'll work out the details later. Just tell me where to go."

Giran gave him an address, a location on the outskirts of the city though an anonymous Email. "You'll find what you need there. But be careful, Midoriya. The heroes are getting smarter, and they're watching. Don't make this more difficult than it needs to be."

There was a pause on Izuku's end before he finally spoke up, trying to keep his voice steady. "...Why are you willing to work with me?" His suspicion was barely concealed, but he couldn't afford to be too direct.

Giran was silent for a moment, then let out a low, amused laugh. "Listen, kid. I know you're the one who blew up that middle school." Izuku narrowed his eyes, "Yes. The news had just given out what I-"

The man on the other end of the line cut Izuku off with a chuckle, the sound unsettling. "Not from the news. I've got a mole in the police. Information travels fast in the right circles. I knew it was you and your little...minions before your profile got out to the public."

Izuku's mind raced. The news had not disclosed information about his minions, and the fact that Giran knows about them means that he wasn't lying. This man was far more connected than he had anticipated. The fact that Giran knew about the explosion—and so quickly—only deepened Izuku's mistrust. But it also meant that Giran was someone who could be a valuable associate, at least for now.

"...You still haven't answered my question," Izuku pressed, his tone more serious. "Why are you helping me?"

Giran's tone shifted, becoming slightly more serious, but still laced with amusement. "Let's just say I've got a knack for spotting talent. You've got potential, kid—ambition, brains, and the guts to pull off something like that explosion. I respect that. But more importantly, I see an opportunity here. You get what you need, and in return, I get a front-row seat to see how far you can go. Of course, this isn't charity—you'll owe me, and I always collect."

Izuku frowned, the weight of the deal sinking in. He didn't like the idea of being in debt to someone like Giran, but he knew he didn't have much choice. His options were limited, and if he wanted to continue his plans, he needed the resources Giran could provide.

"...Fine," Izuku said after a long pause, his voice firm. "But let's get one thing straight—I don't trust you."

Giran laughed again, clearly unfazed. "Smart kid. Trust is a rare commodity in our world. Just focus on your goals, and leave the rest to me. You've got the address. Get there, settle in, and lay low. Now, here comes the price."

Izuku's grip on the phone tightened as he braced himself for whatever Giran was about to ask.

"Listen up, kid. There's a place that's going to serve two purposes for you: it's where you'll start repaying my favor, and it's somewhere that might pique your interest. It's called the Bank of Evil."

"Bank of... Evil?" Izuku repeated, his voice a mix of curiosity and caution. The name itself was almost too on the nose, like something out of a comic book, but the weight in Giran's tone made it clear this was no joke.

"Yeah, kid, you heard me right," Giran replied, his tone almost amused by Izuku's reaction. "It's not just a catchy name. This place is where the worst of the worst keep their treasures, their secrets, and their dirty laundry. It's also where you'll be able to negotiate for illegal weapons and material as well as the place where you're going to make your first real mark in this world."

Izuku's mind raced, trying to piece together what this meant. "And what exactly am I supposed to do there? Wherever that is?"

"You're going to make a delivery," Giran explained, his voice taking on a more serious edge. "It's a package—nothing too big, but important. You're to take it to the Bank of Evil and hand it off to one of the insiders. The details of location and the instructions of how to get inside will be in your email, including who you're supposed to meet. But to make a mental note as your reminder later, I'll tell you now that you'll have to go to the receptionist and ask to have a meeting with a man named Mr. Perkins." Giran explained.

Izuku listened closely, trying to absorb every detail Giran was giving him. 'A delivery... to a place called the Bank of Evil, and I have to meet a guy named Mr. Perkins. Got it.' He mentally noted. But there was also one more thing he had to make sure.  "What's the catch?" Izuku asked, his voice steady.

"The catch is simple," Giran replied. "Don't open the package, don't ask questions, and make sure it gets to the right hands. Do this, and our little partnership stays friendly. Mess it up, and, well...let's just say I have ways of making people regret their mistakes." Izuku nodded, feeling both anxious and determined.

"...Understood. I'll make sure it goes smoothly." He answered, a bit unnerved by Giran's threat.

"And remember," Giran added, his voice dropping lower, "this isn't a game. You mess this up, and there will be consequences. But if you pull it off, you'll have taken your first step into a much bigger world."

"I know. I'll get it done."

"Good to hear," Giran replied, his tone lightening up again. "Keep your head on straight, and we might just make a decent team. Get this favor done, and the keys to the place is yours. Now get going, kid. Time's ticking."

As the call ended, Izuku pocketed his phone and started the van, the gravity of his new mission settling in. The Bank of Evil—his first real test in the world of villains. It was risky, but if he wanted to be taken seriously, he had to start somewhere.

He started the van, setting his course for the location of the package to deliver for this 'Bank of Evil'. Whatever awaited him there, he was ready to face it. He took a deep breath. He was gonna make sure that his eventual life as a villain was gonna be a good time!

---

Katsuki Bakugou was not having a good time.

It's only been the first day of being homeschooled and he already felt like he wanted to blow some shit up!...Which may not be a good idea considering that his school had just been blown up to bits. But he needed something to do to let off some steam!

But he couldn't. Not with every adults treating him like he might explode at any moment. He could see it in their damn eyes: the suspicion, the unspoken questions. It made his blood boil.

As he paced around his room, his mind kept going back to that morning—the morning he found out that Aldera Junior High became a crater in the ground. And more specifically, it kept going back to Izuku Midoriya. Deku. Goddamn Deku. The kid he'd bullied for years. He knew something was off about him the other day! The quirkless loser who suddenly had the guts—and apparently the power—to blow up an entire school. And now he was completely off the radar, disappearing into who the hell knows where!

Katsuki clenched his fists, sparks crackling at his fingertips. "That damn Deku... Who the hell does he think he is?" he muttered to himself, the anger in his voice barely contained. However, just as much as he is angry, he was also feeling...guilty?

Katsuki shook his head and tried to shake off the terrible, spreading feeling in his heart. It made his skin crawl, the idea that somehow, maybe, he was partially responsible for all of this. But how could that be? He was Katsuki fucking Bakugou! The one who was going to be the greatest hero! One that would surpass even All Might himself! He wasn't supposed to feel guilty, especially not over someone like fucking Deku! That quirkless loser who never knew when to give up!

But the memory of that morning, when he'd seen the smoldering remains of Aldera on the news, wouldn't leave him. And neither would the memory of how Deku looked the last time they'd spoken. There had been something different in his eyes, something dark and determined. Katsuki had brushed it off at the time, but now he couldn't shake the feeling that he should've seen it coming.

"Why the fuck am I feeling like this?! Why the hell should I feel bad?! He's the one who went crazy!" Katsuki snarled, trying to convince himself as much as anything. But the words felt hollow, and the gnawing feeling in himself only growing heavier.

"That damn Deku," Katsuki muttered again as he lied on his bed, though this time the words lacked their usual venom. He slumped onto his bed, the frustration and confusion overwhelming him. He wasn't used to feeling like this—so conflicted, so unsure, so...powerless. It was something he never thought he'd feel in his life and he absolutely hated it.

Chapter Text

The daylight sun filtered through the narrow alleyways as Izuku navigated the quiet streets, his grip tightening on the steering wheel while he tried to keep a low profile, avoiding drawing too much attention to himself. The destination was an aquarium—a strange choice for a shady exchange, but Izuku wasn't in a position to question it. He parked the van a short distance away, the silence of the early morning pressing down on him as he considered his next move.

Glancing around the van, Izuku realized he needed something to disguise himself, at least enough to avoid recognition. Just as he was about to search for something, Joey, one of his ever-resourceful minions, handed him a top hat and a pair of shades. "Aca! Uso ba!" He said. Izuku paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face.

"Huh...thanks." He said as he took the hat and glasses. Izuku still couldn't figure out how his minions always seemed to have exactly what he needed at the most convenient times, but at this point, he was just glad for it. There was no time to question the small, peculiar miracles—they were all part of the strange new reality he was stepping into.

Izuku adjusted the top hat and shades, catching a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror. The disguise was simple, almost absurd, but it would have to do. "Alright, Joey! Tony! I want you to stay here and watch over this van for me, okay?" Deku ordered, his tone firm but laced with the underlying anxiety he was trying to suppress.

Reaching into his pocket, Izuku pulled out a small walkie-talkie and handed it to Tony, who took it with a wide grin. "I'll call you if things go south, or if I need something, or just to check up on you. Got it?" he asked, ensuring they understood the importance of their task. Both minions nodded enthusiastically, "No payuod, boss!" Joey chimed in, giving a thumbs-up. "Si! pem ka ba!" Tony added, his voice filled with confidence.

Izuku gave a small smile and nod of approval as Tony eagerly took the walkie-talkie, his tiny hands gripping it like a prized possession. "Good," Izuku said, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the nerves bubbling under the surface. "Just stay alert and be ready. I'll be back soon." As he turned away from the van, Izuku took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. The aquarium loomed in front of him, its glass doors reflecting the bright daylight, and as he stepped towards them, he could feel the weight of the mission pressing down on him. This was more than just a simple delivery—this was his first real step into the world he'd chosen, a world that was dark, dangerous, and far removed from the hero's path he once dreamed of.

The door slid open with a quiet hiss, and Izuku entered, the cool, dimly lit interior contrasting sharply with the bright, sunny world outside. He approached the entrance casually but cautiously, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. The place seemed deserted, save for a few stray tourists who paid him no mind. Still, Izuku had to keep his guard up. The door slid open with a quiet hiss, and the cool, dimly lit interior of the aquarium greeted him. The air was thick with the scent of saltwater and the faint hum of machinery.

Izuku took a deep breath, the scent of saltwater filling his lungs as he ventured further into the aquarium. The faint hum of machinery and the distant sound of bubbling water added to the surreal atmosphere, making the place feel almost otherworldly. He moved cautiously, his eyes darting around, taking in every detail. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the floor, and the flickering glow of the tanks illuminated the path ahead.

As he walked past various exhibits, the vibrant colors of exotic fish and marine life swirled behind the glass, but Izuku barely noticed them. His mind was focused, replaying the instructions Giran had given him over and over again. The suitcase, he reminded himself, was in a storage room somewhere in the back. All he had to do was find it, make the exchange, and get out without drawing any unwanted attention.

Izuku found the storage room at the end of a narrow hallway, its door slightly ajar. He took a quick glance around, making sure no one was nearby, then slipped inside. The room was cluttered with various supplies—cleaning equipment, spare parts for the tanks, and other odds and ends. In the corner, partially hidden beneath a pile of old blankets, was the suitcase he'd been sent to retrieve.

He quickly made his way over and tugged it out, feeling a sense of accomplishment. The suitcase wasn't particularly large, but it was heavier than he expected. "Alright, mission accomplished," he muttered under his breath as he brushed off some dust. Just as he turned to leave, a loud thud resonated through the room.

*THUD!*

"AHH!" Izuku jumped and screamed totally not like a girl and almost dropping the suitcase. His heart raced as he looked around, only to see a massive shark slam against the glass of the tank right next to him.

Oh, it's just a shark. Izuku thought as let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, you think you're so tough, huh?" he muttered, trying to regain his composure. He quickly composed himself and added, "Yeah, well, I've got a suitcase full of... uh, important stuff. So beat it, fish face!" He tried to sound confident, but his voice wavered slightly.

The shark responded by slamming into the glass again, causing Izuku to flinch. He hurriedly turned to leave, shaking his head. "Talking to a shark... great, I'm losing it." He muttered to himself.

As he made his way back to the exit through the hallway, he flinched in slight pain as he heard his ear-piece screech and come to life. "Bozz, donde nama to? pem ka bored, yee tony's agair ta aye unama!"

Izuku's brow twitched in annoyance as he loudly groaned, pressing into his ear-piece and lowering his voice. "What did I say about staying put and not calling me unless it's important?!" he hissed.

"Sorry, bozz! le tos hungry!"

Izuku visibly grew more irritated. "Hungry?! You called me because you were hungry?! Ugh! I swear, the moment I get back there, I'm gonna-!"

Izuku paused as he saw a passing by family giving him odd looks. Izuku immediately froze, realizing he was speaking a little too loudly for someone trying to stay incognito. The family, clearly taken aback by the sight of a young man seemingly arguing with himself, whispered amongst themselves while keeping a wary distance.

Izuku forced an awkward smile, waving his hand dismissively as he tried to play it off. "Uh...sorry! Bluetooth issues!" he blurted out, tapping his ear as if adjusting an earpiece. "You know how these modern technologies can sometimes be...acting up! Ha ha...!" He lied with a nervous laugh.

The family exchanged confused glances but hurried along, giving him a wide berth as they passed by. Izuku sighed in relief, his cheeks flushing red with embarrassment as he quickly turned his attention back to the hallway, picking up his pace.

"Great, now they think I'm some kind of lunatic," he muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes at himself. He pressed the earpiece again, this time more calmly. "Joey, Tony, I'm almost out. Just...try not to eat anything yet, alright?"

A garbled response came through, and Izuku could only shake his head in exasperation. "Just keep it together until I get back," he whispered before finally reaching the exit, eager to put this whole awkward encounter behind him.

Izuku sighed as he climbed back into the van, immediately spotting Tony and Joey in the middle of a heated tug-of-war over the radio dial. The two minions were arguing in their usual gibberish, neither willing to let go.

"Guys, seriously?" Izuku muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "We've got bigger things to worry about than what music to listen to!"

Tony and Joey paused, both turning to look at him with wide, innocent eyes. For a moment, there was silence, and then Joey suddenly let go, sending Tony crashing into the dashboard. The van filled with the loud blare of static as the radio crackled to life.

Izuku shook his head, suppressing a chuckle despite himself. "Just... sit tight, okay? We've got a job to do."

The minions quickly settled down, nodding obediently as they took their seats. Izuku started the van, glancing at the suitcase sitting securely beside him. This was just the beginning, and despite the chaos, he felt a strange sense of purpose starting to settle in.

"Alright," he said, more to himself than to anyone else. "Let's get moving." He said as he set his GPS onto the next stop: The Bank of Evil.

---

Detective Tsukauchi and Eraserhead stood outside the modest apartment, the weight of the situation pressing down on them. The door creaked open slowly as Tsukauchi gently knocked, revealing Inko Midoriya, her face pale and eyes swollen from tears.

"Mrs. Midoriya," Tsukauchi greeted softly, trying to offer some semblance of comfort with his tone. "We appreciate you taking the time to speak with us."

Inko nodded weakly, stepping aside to let them in. She didn't even care to question why the police were in her house in the first place as she had too much going in her head at the moment. The apartment was small but tidy, though there was a certain heaviness in the air, a lingering sadness that seemed to permeate everything. They followed her into the living room, where she gestured for them to sit on the worn couch.

"I'm...so sorry about the mess," Inko said, her voice trembling slightly as she sat opposite them, clutching a tissue in her hand. "I'm just...I can't believe all of this is happening."

Tsukauchi gave her a sympathetic nod, his expression gentle but focused. "We understand, Mrs. Midoriya. This is an incredibly difficult time for you, but we need to ask you some questions about your son, Izuku."

Inko flinched slightly at her son's name, but she nodded, bracing herself. "I'll do my best to help...but I don't know where he is. He just...left me a few hours ago."

Tsukauchi raised a surprised brow. 'A few hours ago? So, he went home just after he blew up his school? Does that mean we were close to catching him? But why did he go home knowing that it was the first place the police would search?' He speculated.

Eraserhead, who had been quietly observing, leaned forward slightly. "Mrs. Midoriya, we're not here to accuse you of anything. We just want to understand what might have led to this. Did you notice anything unusual about Izuku recently? Anything that might explain why he did what he did?"

Inko's hands trembled as she clenched her fists, her eyes downcast. The room was silent, the weight of her guilt hanging heavily in the air. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper, but filled with a profound sorrow. "Izuku did it... because of me."

Both Tsukauchi and Eraserhead's eyes widened in surprise. That was not at all what they expected to hear. Tsukauchi leaned in, concern etched on his face. "What...what do you mean, Mrs. Midoriya?"

"Had I been a good parent to him...had I not neglected him because of his quirklessness...maybe this wouldn't have happened...maybe he wouldn't have gone down the path he did." Inko explained, her voice guilt-ridden.

Tears welled up in Inko's eyes as she struggled to find the right words. "I... I failed him as a mother. Had I been a better parent, had I not neglected him because he was quirkless...maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe he wouldn't have gone down this path. Maybe he still would've wanted to be a hero."

The room was thick with the weight of Inko's confession, her words hanging in the air like a dark cloud. Tsukauchi's expression softened as he finally began to understand the depth of the situation. Izuku Midoriya wasn't just a villain who had suddenly snapped; he was a boy who had been slowly, painfully driven to the edge by a society that had failed him at every turn.

Eraserhead, too, seemed to connect the dots. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place: a quirkless boy with dreams too big for the world he lived in, abandoned by those who should have supported him, pushed into the shadows where bitterness and resentment festered. It was a tragic story, one they'd seen too many times before, though perhaps not to this extreme.

Inko shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "I saw the pain in his eyes every time he was reminded of what he couldn't do, of the dreams that seemed so far out of reach. I should have done more, should have been there for him, but instead, I... I let him believe he wasn't enough, that he wasn't worth as much because he didn't have a quirk." She did it. She's finally admitted it and accepted the fact that she had failed her son at every turn.

Eraserhead's eyes softened as he listened, his usual stern demeanor replaced by a deep empathy. "Mrs. Midoriya," he began, his voice low but gentle, "it's clear that Izuku was hurting, and that pain was real. But that doesn't mean this is your fault. The world we live in is harsh, especially for someone like him, but we have to believe that there's still a way to help him. That he can still find his way back."

Tsukauchi nodded in agreement. "We're going to do everything we can to bring him back safely. But right now, we need your help to understand him better. Anything you can tell us—about his past, his dreams, even the smallest details—could make a difference."

Inko nodded weakly, her shoulders trembling as she wiped her tears. "Okay. I'll...do whatever I can to help. Just...please bring him back. I need to properly tell him that...that I'm sorry..."

Eraserhead placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We'll do everything in our power, Mrs. Midoriya. We'll bring him back."

---

Izuku parked the van a short distance away from the building, taking a moment to observe the area. Just as Giran had described, the Bank of Evil looked completely unremarkable from the outside—an ordinary, run-of-the-mill bank with a plain facade and a modest sign. It was hard to believe that something so sinister could be lurking behind those unassuming walls.

But this was the place, no doubt about it.

He adjusted his disguise, ensuring the top hat and shades were still in place before stepping out of the van. His heart raced with a mix of anticipation and nerves as he approached the entrance. This was a crucial step in his journey, and he couldn't afford to slip up. He took a deep breath, reminding himself of Giran's instructions and the importance of this mission. The package was secure in his hand, and all he had to do was deliver it to Mr. Perkins.

"Alright. Just like last time, stay here and keep watch." He ordered his two minions seriously before giving them a light glare. "But don't call me about anything unimportant again. Understood?" He warned strictly, remembering his embarrassing moment back at the aquarium. His two minions nodded obediently.

Izuku reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a pair of bananas. His minions' favorite food. Izuku handed the bananas to Joey and Tony, watching as their eyes lit up with excitement. "Remember," he added with a stern tone, "only call me if it's an emergency. Otherwise, stay out of sight and out of trouble."

The two minions nodded enthusiastically, already peeling their bananas and chattering happily among themselves. Izuku couldn't help but sigh, feeling a mix of exasperation and fondness. "Alright," he muttered to himself, straightening his top hat and adjusting his shades. "Time to get this done."

With one last glance at his minions, who were now thoroughly absorbed in their snack of bananas, Izuku squared his shoulders and headed towards the bank. The exterior of this supposed 'Bank of Evil' was as ordinary as any other financial institution, which only heightened the contrast with what lay within.

Upon entering, Izuku was greeted by the typical bank lobby—sleek marble floors, polished counters, and the soft hum of fluorescent lighting. It was almost too normal. Keeping his cool, he made his way to the restroom as instructed. Inside, he cautiously inspected the stalls and sinks, searching for any signs of the hidden entrance.

Giran's instructions had been clear: the Bank of Evil was accessed through a secret eye scanner embedded in one of the urinals. After a few moments of searching, Izuku's eyes landed on a slightly out-of-place panel in the wall of one of the urinals. He hesitated only for a moment before pressing the hidden button beside it.

A soft whirring sound filled the room as a red light scanned over Izuku's green pupils. To his surprise, the wall in front of him began to tremble and then slid open, revealing a grand entrance bathed in an ominous red glow. Above the door at the end of the hallway, the sign read "The Bank of Evil," confirming that he had arrived at his destination. The transition was startling—one moment he was in a mundane restroom, and the next, he was facing a hidden, high-tech entrance.

Izuku took a deep breath and stepped into the entrance, trying to steel himself for what lay ahead. This was the moment where everything could change, where he would prove to himself that he belonged in this new world of villainy.

As he walked down the long hallway, flanked by imposing marble columns, Izuku's eyes were drawn to a series of statues lining the corridor. Each statue depicted All Might in various stages of distress, the exaggerated expressions of struggle etched into the marble. The statues showed the symbol of peace desperately trying to hold up the pillars, his muscles straining against the weight. The final column bore a statue of All Might being fully crushed. Even Izuku couldn't help but gulp, feeling a bit disturbed by what these statues were representing.

As the doors slid open automatically, Izuku was greeted by the sight of a lavish yet eerily empty lobby. The room was adorned with dark, polished surfaces and extravagant décor that spoke of wealth and power.

Izuku approached the receptionist desk, doing his best to quell the flutter of nerves in his stomach. He cleared his throat and adjusted his top hat, aiming to project a semblance of confidence despite the unease gnawing at him. "Hello. I'm Iz—Deku. I was told I have a meeting with Mr. Perkins," he said, using his villain name for the first time, a mix of excitement and trepidation in his voice.

The receptionist's sharp eyes briefly scanned his disguise as well as the suitcase in his hand before she offered a practiced, reassuring smile. "Ah, yes. You must be Mr. Deku. Mr. Okuta did inform us of your arrival. Mr. Perkins will be with you shortly. Please, have a seat," she said, gesturing toward a row of plush chairs in the lobby.

'Mr. Okuta? Oh, that must be Giran's last name.' Izuku thought as he gave a nod of thanks and made his way to the seating area, trying to ignore the way his nerves seemed to tighten with each step. He sank into one of the comfortable chairs, the soft fabric feeling oddly comforting against the tension in his muscles. As he waited, he tried to distract himself by surveying the lobby.

The windowless room was a stark contrast to the grandeur of the lobby. It was meticulously clean and organized, the air cool and dry from the air-conditioning. Despite the pristine environment, Izuku felt a mounting sense of unease. The transition from the stark, foreboding hallway to this lavish, serene space did nothing to soothe his anxiety. He tightened his grip on the suitcase, trying to steady his nerves.

In an attempt to ground himself, Izuku reached into one of his pockets and pulled out the charred remnants of his old notebook. It was the notebook Bakugou had exploded, now bearing a new label: "Villain Notebook." He had crossed out the previous title and scrawled the new one with bold strokes. This notebook was more than just a symbol of his past—now, it was a repository of his new life, filled with plans, concepts, and designs for his villainous endeavors.

As Izuku flipped through the pages, the familiar scribbles and sketches offered a rare moment of solace. But then, his mind took an unexpected detour down memory lane, making his mood do a complete 180.

---

A young, bright-eyed Izuku Midoriya, only five years old, burst into the kitchen with unrestrained excitement, his tiny hands clutching an All Might action figure. "Mom, I'm going to be a hero one day too!" he declared, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he recounted the latest heroic feats of his favorite hero from a video he'd watched.

Inko Midoriya, busy at the stove, barely glanced at her son. Her voice was cold and dismissive, tinged with an unspoken bitterness. "I'm afraid you're not cut out for that, kid. Hero schools can't accept anyone so useless."

The young boy's face fell, his excitement evaporating like mist. He looked down at his All Might action figure, the dream of heroism now overshadowed by his mother's harsh words. The vibrant gleam in his eyes dulled, replaced by a shadow of disappointment and hurt.

---

Izuku set his notebook down slightly with hurt visible in his eyes as a pang of nostalgia and sadness washes over him. Why did he remember that moment just now? He didn't know, but it left him feeling unsettled. He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the unexpected emotional wave.

He was snapped out of it when the receptionist earlier called out to him. "Mr. Deku. Mr. Perkins is ready to see you now."

Izuku blinked, refocusing as the receptionist's voice broke through his reverie. He quickly tucked his villain notebook back into his pocket as well as his top hat and shades since he probably won't need it now. With a deep breath to steady himself, he rose from his seat and walked towards the direction the receptionist had indicated.

The door to Mr. Perkins' office opened with a soft click, and Izuku stepped inside. Izuku was met with the sight of a large man wearing a formal blue business suit. It was definitely the man Izuku was supposed to meet. Mr. Perkins was seated behind a large mahogany desk, his expression calm and professional.

"Ah, you must be Mr. Deku." Mr. Perkins greeted, looking up from a stack of papers. His tone was polite but carried an air of authority.

"Yes, that's me," Izuku replied, trying to sound confident despite the residual unease. He approached the desk and placed the suitcase down with deliberate care. "I have a package for you, as instructed."

Mr. Perkins nodded and gestured for Izuku to place the suitcase on the desk. "Very well. Thank you for delivering this."

As Izuku placed the suitcase on the desk, Mr. Perkins' comment caught him off guard. "Hm, you're a lot younger than I expected," the man remarked, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

Izuku tensed for a moment, unsure how to respond. "I... guess I am," he finally said, trying to keep his voice steady. A tense silence filled the room before Mr. Perkins broke it with a heavy sigh. "Let's just get straight to the point, kid. My business is dying. Let me explain"

Izuku blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of the statement. Mr. Perkins continued, his tone sharp, "With the rise of these 'Pro heroes' that society worships, villains today just don’t have the same spark. They’ve lost their edge, their drive. And when villains are on the losing end, businesses like mine suffer. The Bank of Evil thrives on chaos, on the power struggles that used to be a constant. But lately, the heroes have been winning too much. The great villains who once filled these halls are gone, defeated, or in hiding."

Izuku listened intently, absorbing the gravity of the situation. However, one crucial detail still puzzled him. "Wait, what exactly does the Bank of Evil do?" he asked, genuinely curious.

Mr. Perkins leaned back in his chair, a knowing smile crossing his face. "Ah, yes, I should have clarified that. The Bank of Evil isn’t just a name. We provide resources, information, and support to aspiring villains. In exchange for certain...deeds performed, we offer financial backing, cutting-edge technology, and strategic guidance. Our goal is to help you make your mark and cause the kind of chaos that will turn the tide against these heroes."

Izuku's eyes widened with interest. The idea of having access to more resources and support was exactly what he needed, especially given his current situation. Mr. Perkins cleared his throat before continuing.

"Anyways, my business, and others like it, are in decline," Perkins continued, his voice growing more passionate, "because there’s no one left to support, no one capable of turning the tide. But you," he said, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied Izuku, "I see something different in you. I see that hunger in your eyes, boy. A fire that hasn’t been seen in a long time."

Izuku felt a shiver run down his spine, the man’s intense gaze making him feel both excited and nervous. He swallowed hard, trying to process what was happening. 

Perkins leaned back slightly, a calculating look on his face. "That's why I’m willing to make you an offer. I want to help you, Deku. I want to give you the resources, the connections, and the backing you need to rise above the rest. Because if you succeed, if you become the villain I believe you can be, then my business will thrive once more. It’s a gamble, but one I’m willing to take."

Izuku’s heart raced as he realized the gravity of what was being offered. "And what do you want in return?" he asked cautiously, trying to keep his voice steady.

Mr. Perkins smiled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "All I want is for you to keep that fire burning. Keep pushing, keep challenging the heroes, and don’t settle for anything less than greatness. If you do that, the Bank of Evil will be behind you every step of the way."

Izuku hesitated, the weight of Mr. Perkins' words pressing down on him. "But... why me?" he finally asked, the uncertainty in his voice betraying his doubts. "You already said you see something in me, but... why me, out of everyone?"

Mr. Perkins raised an eyebrow, a bit taken aback by the question. "I told you, didn’t I? I see that fiery determination in your eyes. That hunger to prove yourself."

"Yeah, but...why me?" Izuku pressed, his insecurities bubbling to the surface. For as long as he could remember, he’d been overlooked, undervalued. To him, being chosen for something this significant felt almost surreal—like he wasn’t truly worthy of it unless he was forced to prove it.

"It's not just about what I see in your eyes, Deku. It’s a gut feeling, something that tells me you’ve got what it takes to be more than just another villain. You’ve got the potential to be extraordinary, to change the game. And that’s something I don’t see often."

Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise. "But... how did you know? How could you be so sure?"

Mr. Perkins nodded thoughtfully. "You have Giran to thank for that. He’s one of my trusted associates, and when he mentioned you, I knew I had to keep an eye on you. He told me about the middle school incident—impressive work, by the way—and he vouched for you. Said you were different. Special."

Izuku blinked, absorbing this new information. "Giran... he told you all that? Already?"

"Indeed," Mr. Perkins confirmed. "Giran has an eye for talent, and when he told me about you, I listened. He believes in your potential, and so do I. You’ve already shown that you’re willing to do what it takes, and that’s exactly the kind of drive I’m looking for."

Izuku hummed in understanding, the pieces falling into place. Giran’s endorsement, combined with Perkins’ instincts, had brought him here.

"...And because there was no one else out there having the desire or potential to be a great supervillain."

"Ah, that makes sense."

Perkins leaned forward, his expression serious. "Remember, Deku, this isn’t just about you or me. It’s about shaking up a world that’s become too complacent. And I believe you’re the one who can do it. So, Mr. Deku..." He stood up from his chair and extended his hand toward the young, aspiring villain. "Welcome to the world of villains. We, the Bank of Evil, are ready to assist you in any way possible."

Izuku smiled with newfound pride and determination settling in his chest as he shook Mr. Perkins' hand. "Thank you! I won’t let you down."

He was so happy. He finally found a place where he belonged! He was finally accepted!

After the formalities were done, Mr. Perkins sat back down and unlocked the suitcase Izuku had delivered. Inside was an intriguing weapon that immediately caught Izuku’s eye—a sleek, all-white blaster with a yellow handle and trigger. The design was both futuristic and oddly whimsical. As Mr. Perkins lifted the weapon out of the case, Izuku noticed a wistful expression cross the older man’s face.

"Ah, the squid launcher. I remember this." Perkins murmured, his tone filled with a mix of fondness and melancholy. "It belonged to my son."

Izuku’s eyes widened in surprise. "You have a son?"

Mr. Perkins nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the blaster. "Indeed, I had a son. His name was Victor, though he preferred his villain name—Vector."

Curiosity piqued, Izuku leaned in slightly. "Oh, really? Where is he now?" The idea of learning from a seasoned villain's son excited him, hoping he might glean some valuable insights.

Perkins' expression darkened, his voice lowering. "He... passed."

Izuku’s heart sank. "Oh... I'm sorry."

After a moment's hesitation, Izuku couldn't help but ask, "How did he... pass? I’m sorry if that’s too personal, sir."

Perkins sighed deeply, his eyes clouded with distant memories. "He died on the moon."

Izuku blinked, struggling to process what he’d just heard. "He died... on the moon?" He tried to mask his bewilderment, the bizarre nature of Vector's fate catching him off guard. He had expected a story of a confrontation with heroes, or a tragic betrayal, but dying on the moon was beyond anything he could have imagined. Unsure whether to probe further, Izuku simply nodded, the strange story leaving him with more questions than answers.

Izuku, still reeling from the unexpected revelation, quickly straightened up and forced a polite smile. "A-Anyways, I look forward to doing business with you!" he stammered, his voice wavering slightly as he bowed formally.

Mr. Perkins offered a small, understanding smile, appreciating the young villain's attempt to shift the mood. "Likewise, Deku. I'm confident this will be a very fruitful partnership."

With that, Izuku quickly exited the Bank of Evil.

---

Izuku stepped out of the Bank of Evil, feeling a surge of accomplishment and excitement as he was now officially a villain. The sun was dipping below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the city as twilight settled in. He made his way back to the van, his thoughts buzzing with the day’s events and the promise of new beginnings.

As he opened the van door, he was greeted by the familiar sight of Joey and Tony bickering over the radio, their animated gestures adding a touch of chaos to the otherwise calm evening. Izuku rolled his eyes with a fond smile, shaking his head at their antics. "Alright, alright, that's enough!" he called out, cutting through their argument. "We’ve got places to be."

With his minions reluctantly quieting down, Izuku settled into the driver’s seat. As the van rumbled to life, he glanced at the setting sun and then at the road ahead, steeling himself for the next phase of his journey.

It was time to head to the location of his new base Giran found him. Whatever awaited him there, he was ready to face it with newfound determination and a sense of belonging.

---

Once Izuku arrived at the new base, he was greeted by Giran, who stood at the entrance of what appeared to be an old, abandoned apartment complex. The building was weathered and crumbling, a stark contrast to the sleek and modern facilities of the Bank of Evil.

Giran’s eyes lit up with a mix of approval and amusement as he saw Izuku approach. "Well, well, look who's here. I must say, I’m impressed. You actually made it through the day and handled yourself well," Giran remarked, handing Izuku a set of keys.

Izuku took the keys with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. "Thanks, Giran. I did my best. What’s the deal with this place?"

Giran grinned. "This is your new base. The real fun starts now. It’s an underground hideout beneath this old apartment complex. It’s got everything you need—hidden rooms, secure storage, and a lot of space to make it your own. You can also use the apartment complex itself since, well, no one's living or using this place, obviously. So, you do you."

He gestured to the entrance of the building, which led to a set of stairs descending into darkness. "Go on. Check it out. I think you’ll find it’s just what you need."

Izuku took a deep breath, the weight of the day’s events settling on his shoulders, but his resolve unwavering. "Alright, I’ll take a look."

As he descended the stairs, the air grew cooler and the sound of his footsteps echoed off the concrete walls. The space was large and empty but had the potential to become a formidable base. Izuku's imagination began to run wild with the possibilities of what he could transform it into.

As he descended the stairs, the air grew cooler and the sound of his footsteps echoed off the concrete walls. The space was large and empty but had the potential to become a formidable base. Izuku's imagination began to run wild with the possibilities of what he could transform it into.

After a brief but thorough tour of the new base, Giran clapped Izuku on the shoulder as if he was hanging out with an old friend. "Looks like you've got a lot of work ahead of you, kid. But I've gotta go now. I've got other businesses to attend to."

Izuku nodded in understanding. With that, Giran turned and made his way out of the base, leaving Izuku alone in his new headquarters. The door closed behind him with a soft click, and Izuku was left in the dim light of the underground hideout.

The silence of the space was both calming and invigorating. As he stood there, taking in the enormity of what lay before him, a sense of purpose settled over him. The path to becoming a great villain was now laid out before him, and Izuku was ready to make it his own.

He pulled out his phone to call Mel, the minion he put in charge of his old base. "Mel! Good news! I've found our next home. So tell everyone to get everything ready!" He ordered with enthusiasm evident in his voice.

Mel’s voice crackled back through the line, sounding a bit flustered. "Huh? deku? uh, si! udo! pelo, bada's da sopa..." Mel’s words were rushed, and he seemed to be struggling with how to explain.

Izuku’s brow furrowed in confusion. "Huh? What's going on, Mel? I can't hear you clearly." he asked, still not fully understanding their language. Suddenly, Mel's voice was muffled by loud, chaotic noise. The background was filled with boisterous laughter, music, and the unmistakable sounds of a full-blown party. Izuku’s eyes widened as he realized what was happening.

Back with the minions, they seemed to be having the time of their lives partying while singing a long the song they made. It was like they had been at an Irish pub party.

"HEYY! PALI PALO PAPPOY! ULA LI KO TA GA! PA LI PA LI PA LI PA LI PA LU KEA PAPPOY!"

The minions had even choreographed their own dance routine, hopping, swaying and...even slapping each others' butts to their rhythm:

"ULAT KU KI GA NI KU KI GA GET PEA PEA ULA PA GEE PEA PA GEE KELI! LA BOS PA KEE KOLAAA!"

Seems like they got bored the entire day.

"AYY YEE LA BAT KO KI KOLA KABE UKI SEGAAAAA!" They continued to sing.

Mel’s voice returned through the phone, sounding sheepish and apologetic about the party. "Lam, um, pem moopa kaylay. capley a ipo dosgie bidom to ka bok. Pem moo you’d be cos tomak, yee errec ka a jot kapee de na...Sorry!"

Izuku sighed heavily, a mixture of exasperation and bemusement washing over him. "Seriously, Mel? I told you to keep things under control. We have a big move ahead, and I need everyone focused."

Mel hurriedly replied, "Pem sama bono aka yee linda bok da traba recha cos. I’m nobif bido nunu ta mo!"

Izuku might not have understood every word Mel had said, but he was certain Mel had just promised to get the job done. "I...thanks, Mel. I expect things to be in order when I get there. No more parties until the job’s done, understood?"

Izuku ended the call and took a deep breath. Despite the chaos, he couldn’t help but smile at his minions' usual comical antics. He returned to his van and started to head back to the old base where his minions held at.

---

Back at the old base, the minions were still caught up in their lively celebration. Mel, now visibly more serious and slightly frazzled, took charge of the situation.

"Alright, tokas, bebada aka!" Mel shouted over the noise, waving his arms to get their attention. His authoritative tone cut through the clamor, and the minions started to quiet down.

The sudden silence fell upon the room as the minions looked at Mel expectantly. "Pem kaylay ka a daga ons da mova da, yee pem mo da linda midoo metmen aka yee een fog. No mas partying ree ta job’s pin, illzzz?" Mel’s voice was firm, but there was an edge of urgency in his tone as he quickly assessed the situation with them and told what was boss's orders.

The minions groaned in unison but quickly set to work, their previous enthusiasm now redirected towards organizing and packing. Mel moved among them with purpose, directing the efforts with practiced ease. He barked out orders, "Linda be crates metmen! haga udo nothing’s isko titham! pem mo da kaylay midoo boca nunu kan Mr. Deku vigwab!"

As the minions bustled about, Mel took a moment to check in with the various groups, ensuring everything was on track. His leadership skills were evident as he managed to balance efficiency with the minions’ natural tendency for chaos.

Within a short span of time, the raucous party had transformed into a well-organized packing operation. Mel stood back and surveyed the progress with a satisfied nod.

"Leelas traba, tokas. Let’s linda ba pin, yee pen pem pudum kaylay tem zagass. Good job!" Mel congratulated them for their swift work, his voice carrying a mix of encouragement and relief.

A few moments later, Izuku finally arrived, his expression bright with excitement. The minions instantly perked up at the sight of their boss, their exhaustion turning into eager attention.

"I’ve got some great news!" Izuku announced, his voice carrying the thrill of his recent meeting. "We’ve secured our new base! It's an amazing underground facility with plenty of potential for us to make our mark. But...we’ve got some work ahead of us. We need to clean up, organize, and get everything set up before we can move in."

The minions exchanged glances, their faces falling at the prospect of hard work. "Awww~!" They let out a chorus of groans and dramatic sighs, clearly not thrilled about the idea of heavy lifting and cleaning. They acted as if they were a class of teenagers tasked to do some homework on a Friday.

Izuku, sensing their reluctance, decided to shift the mood. He took a deep breath and began to speak with a fervor that matched his newfound purpose, remembering that he was now and official villain. "But! This isn’t just about cleaning and moving. This is about finally starting our chapter in our villainous journey! We’re going to make our mark on this world! The heroes have gotten too comfortable, and it's our time to shake things up. We'll be planning daring heists, creating chaos, and proving that we’re a force to be reckoned with!" He smiled confidently at his army of minions. "Are you with me?"

His words had the intended effect. The minions’ eyes lit up with excitement, their earlier complaints forgotten. They chattered and cheered among themselves, fueled by the prospect of the villainous adventures that lay ahead.

Izuku smiled, satisfied with their renewed enthusiasm. "So let's get to work, team! There’s a lot to do, but with our combined efforts, we'll make our own base of operations, and we'll be showing the world what the name 'Deku' means!"

The minions cheered once again, their spirits lifted by Izuku’s motivational speech. They set to work with newfound energy, eager to begin their new chapter and support their boss in his quest to become the world's ultimate villain!

Chapter Text

2 months later.

The police station atmosphere was tense as Detective Tsukauchi stood before a group of fellow officers and pro heroes; on one large whiteboard hung a detailed timeline for the last two months of sightings, crimes, and all sorts of despicable deeds tied to one name: Deku. Tsukauchi tapped the board with his pen, frustration evident across his face.

"We need to find him, and fast. This kid has been causing chaos, and every day he gets bolder. We've let him slip through our fingers more than once, and the city's starting to lose confidence in us."

One of the officers leaned back toward a wall, arms crossed. "What's the plan? He's already hit major targets—museums, armories, underground facilities and even trying on damn hero agencies. Where do you think he'll strike next?"

Before Tsukauchi could answer, an officer burst into the room, panting, holding a phone to his ear. "Sir, we've got an urgent report—Deku's on the move again. He's in the middle of robbing the largest bank in Musutafu!"

The room instantly sprang into action. Chairs scraped against the floor as heroes and officers scrambled to suit up. As the chaos unfolded in the station, the television in the corner flickered to life, showing a breaking news report. The news anchor's voice was calm, but the tension was clear in her eyes.

"Good afternoon, viewers. As you know, in the last two months, the villain known as Izuku Midoriya, also known as 'Deku', has made quite the name for himself. Authorities have been unable to apprehend him, and his growing infamy has put the entire city on edge. Sources say that he has targeted yet another major institution—this time, the largest bank in Musutafu." The screen cut to helicopter footage of the bank, surrounded by law enforcement vehicles. Sirens blared in the distance, and pro heroes were already on-site. "The young villain himself, who is actually currently in the midst of being surrounded by law enforcement and pro heroes inside the bank." The news anchor continued.

Tsukauchi's grip tightened around his phone. "This time...we get him!"

---

Back inside the bank, Deku stood amidst the chaos he had orchestrated, directing a squad of minions who were hauling away everything they could steal. The bank vault had already been cleaned out, and now they were moving the last of the cash and valuables through the bank's back entrance. Several unconscious security guards lay scattered across the floor, their radios emitting static from failed attempts to call for backup.

Izuku's green eyes scanned the scene, calculating, making sure nothing was left to chance. This heist had been weeks in the making. Every second was accounted for, every guard, patrol, and shift change timed perfectly. He had mapped out the escape route down to the last detail. The police and pro heroes might have just arrived, but it would be too late for them to stop him.

"Move it, faster!" Deku commanded, his voice sharp, but calm.

The minions, dressed in matching dark jumpsuits, hustled with stacks of cash, precious metals, and jewelry. They funneled through the dimly lit corridor, dragging their haul toward a secluded alleyway behind the bank where their getaway vehicle—a heavily modified and armored van—stood by, engine running, ready to speed off at a moment's notice.

"Ka ta peek, boos. La sopa!" one of the minions, Mel, reported enthusiastically from the co-driver seat.

"Good, good. We're almost done here," Deku responded, giving Mel a nod of approval before turning back toward the vault. His eyes flickered toward the ticking clock on his wrist. Time was running out.

"Alright, everyone, get out of here and get on the van!" Deku barked, his tone sharp as he clapped his hands, signaling the urgency of the situation.

The squad of minions, now energized by the command, scrambled to their feet, clutching bags of stolen goods as they rushed toward the waiting getaway vehicle. They clambered inside, one by one, their movements swift and practiced. All except Tim, who tripped over his own feet and fell face-first into the pavement, bags flying out of his hands.

"Tim!" Deku shouted in exasperation, rolling his eyes. He rushed over, quickly yanking the clumsy minion to his feet and tossing him, somewhat roughly, into the van. "Get it together!" he snapped, though there was no real malice in his voice.

With all the minions loaded into the vehicle, Deku shut the door behind them and glanced back at the bank. A smirk curled onto his lips as a wild idea sprang into his mind. Without a second thought, he rushed back into the bank.

The minions blinked in confusion. "Eh? Deku?" Mel called out, leaning forward in the van's driver's seat and looking back. But by the time he turned around, Deku was already gone, disappearing back into the building.

Inside, Deku sprinted toward the lobby, weaving through the sea of unconscious guards and scattered debris. His heart hammered with adrenaline as his mind buzzed with a wild idea. Reaching the center of the grand foyer near the entrance, Deku crouched and placed a small device on the ground.

With a little press onto the small thing, the device activated, and a glowing hologram of Deku appeared. The figure was standing tall with its back turned to the entrance, arms raised in surrender—a perfect decoy.

Satisfied with his trick, Deku smirked. "This'll buy us a few extra minutes," he muttered to himself. With one last glance at his holographic double, Deku bolted back toward the alleyway where the escape van waited.

As Deku slipped out of the building and into the alleyway, the sound of screeching tires and heavy boots filled the air. Within seconds, the pro heroes and police stormed into the bank, their weapons drawn and ready.

"Hands up!" an officer shouted, his voice echoing through the hollowed space of the bank lobby.

They all aimed at the hologram, unaware it was a decoy. The holographic Deku stood still, arms raised as if in surrender, the officers inching closer.

One of the pro heroes stepped forward cautiously. "Wait...something's off," he muttered, eyes narrowing at the strange glow coming from the figure.

The pro hero's hand passed right through the holographic Deku, and his expression shifted to one of dread. "It's a decoy!" he shouted, his voice sharp with urgency as the small device on the floor began to beep more frantically.

"Fall back! Everyone, get back!" an officer yelled, panic rippling through the room as the heroes and police scrambled for cover.

*KABOOM!*

The explosion wasn't massive, but it packed enough force to rattle the building. Dust and debris filled the air, and the officers and heroes managed to shield themselves just in time. One of them wiped the sweat from his brow, exhaling in relief. "Phew... that was close."

*KRAAASHH!*

Suddenly, the front wall of the bank burst outward, concrete and steel crumbling into chaos. Through the haze of dust and falling debris, Deku's van roared into view, throttling full speed with thrusters through the freshly-made gap.

"Deku!" one of the officers shouted, diving out of the way.

"Move, move, MOVE!" one of the heroes yelled, diving out of the way as the van sped past them. Officers scrambled, some barely managing to avoid being run down as Deku made his daring and utterly reckless escape.

The armored van crashed through the bank entrance, shattering glass and debris everywhere. With a loud CRUNCH, it plowed right into several police cars parked outside, sending them skidding across the street like toys.

Deku gripped the wheel tightly, adrenaline coursing through his veins as the van tore down the streets of Musutafu. Behind him, the wail of sirens grew various, but a wild grin spread across his face as he quickly glanced at his minions in the rearview mirror, who cheered at their successful getaway.

"Hold on tight, boys!" Deku shouted, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "We're not out of the woods yet!"

Up in the sky, a news helicopter hovered above the chaotic scene, its camera zooming in on the speeding van as it tore through the city streets. The news anchor's voice crackled over the broadcast.

"As you can see, folks, the daring young villain known as Deku is making a high-speed escape, weaving through traffic as law enforcement gives chase. Police cars and pro heroes are in pursuit, but the villain shows no signs of slowing down." The helicopter struggled to keep pace with Deku's van, despite its advantage in the air.

Glancing in his rearview mirror, Izuku's eyes narrowed as he spotted the police and pro heroes gaining ground. "Guys! Try to get them off our tail!" he ordered, gripping the wheel tightly.

Without hesitation, the minions sprang into action. Mel popped open a side hatch, rummaging through a compartment filled with gadgets. "Ka pik! La bomba!" he shouted, holding up a strange, spherical device.

Not missing a beat, he rolled down his window and tossed the device out the van, creating a thick cloud of smoke that blanketed the road behind them. Patrol cars screeched to a halt, crashing into each other as they tried to navigate the now-impenetrable smog.

Izuku's smirk widened as he slammed his foot down on the throttle, the van roaring in response as it picked up speed. The wind whipped through the open windows as they tore down the streets, weaving through traffic.

"Let's see them catch up now!" he muttered, feeling the rush of their near-escape. The smoke bombs were working, leaving the cops in disarray. 

Suddenly, a loud thud landed on the windshield, causing Izuku to yelp in surprise. A pro hero had jumped onto the van, glaring down at him. "Deku! Surrender now!" the hero barked, punching the windshield with enough force to leave a crack.

Scowling, Izuku quickly reached for a hidden button near the radio. "Not today!" he growled, pressing it. Instantly, a shockwave rippled outward from the van, jolting the pro hero with a surge of electricity. The hero grunted in pain as his body convulsed, and within seconds, he lost his grip and tumbled off the vehicle, disappearing into the cloud of smoke behind them.

Izuku groaned in annoyance, his eyes flicking to the helicopter above, tracking his every move. But then, he noticed something—a bridge looming ahead on the highway, casting a shadow over the road. A smirk tugged at his lips as his gaze shifted to a nearby construction tunnel beside it.

"Perfect," he muttered under his breath. The bridge would give them the cover they needed, and the tunnel would be their escape route.

"Hold on tight, boys!" Izuku shouted to his minions. He swerved the van sharply, heading straight toward the tunnel's entrance just as the helicopter began to lose visual contact.

The cop cars followed closely, their sirens blaring as they closed in on the van speeding into the tunnel. Detective Tsukauchi watched intently from his patrol car, certain they had finally cornered Deku.

But as the lead vehicles blocked off the exit and officers surrounded the van, something was off. "Wait..." Tsukauchi's eyes widened in realization.

The van shimmered for a moment, then flickered away—it was a hologram decoy again!

'Damnit!' He silently cursed in his head as he grit his teeth in frustration. He began barking orders to spread out and check every perimeter, determined to not let him go. Unfortunately for him, Deku was already long gone.

On the highway, Deku smirked, casually cruising in his van that now appeared as an ordinary vehicle blending in with the rest of the traffic. He had activated his camouflage mode, leaving the authorities scrambling for answers while he escaped, hidden in plain sight.

Meanwhile, the news helicopter continued circling the area, reporting the dramatic pursuit.

"We've just been told what appeared to be the police cornering the villain known as Deku...only for his van to disappear! Authorities are now combing the area, but so far, no sign of the young villain."

The news broadcast continued, the anchor's voice serious as they relayed the events of the day.

"The daring young villain known as Deku has once again evaded law enforcement after orchestrating a high-stakes robbery at the largest bank in Musutafu. Despite a massive police and pro hero response, Deku escaped in a dramatic chase involving decoys and clever tactics. Authorities warn that the villain has grown increasingly bold and cunning in recent months. Citizens are advised to stay vigilant, as Deku's influence appears to be growing rapidly. He's quickly becoming one of the most notorious villains in the city."

The screen cut to footage of the wrecked bank and the chaotic police scene, as well as presenting a picture of what Izuku looked like.

"People all around are wondering what the young villain's motive is. What could have set a young boy to go on a villainous path? Why is he doing this? How is he doing this? We are all aching to find out why."

The chopper hovered above the highway, searching for any clues. However, they were completely unaware that Deku's van was right beneath them, hidden among the traffic, blending in perfectly.

With the news helicopter leaving the scene, Deku grinned victoriously. "Perfect," he muttered, casually weaving through the traffic. "They didn't even notice."

Today's despicable deed was yet another success. And it was their biggest one yet!

Deku drove the disguised van through the city streets, blending seamlessly with regular traffic. After a short while, he reached a seemingly ordinary mail post office tucked away in a quiet part of town. To any outsider, it was just another mundane building, but to Deku and his minions, it was the perfect cover.

He turned into a secluded alleyway beside the building, and as the van came to a stop, the ground below began to shift. The entire floor slowly opened up, revealing a hidden elevator platform. With a soft hum, the van was lowered underground into the heart of Deku's secret base.

As the van settled into the underground base, Izuku stepped out and stretched, feeling the thrill of their successful heist still coursing through him. His squad of minions eagerly hopped out after him, some already carrying out the bags of loot and stolen goods, others already celebrating their narrow escape.

"Good job, squad! You all worked well!" Izuku congratulated his heist squad as he went to greet the minions that were in the base. He strolled through the base, feeling a mixture of pride and amusement as his minions bustled around him, all humming to the tune of Cecilia by Simon & Garfunkel. 

"La~! La la~! La la la la la~! La la la la la~! La la la la la la~!" The minions sang along as they did their tasks. Some were drilling, hammering, even carrying bombs...which exploded occasionally, and some were even dancing to the song they were singing.

The base was still under construction, but progress was steady. Chaos, as usual, ruled the day, but Izuku couldn't deny that his team was getting the job done in their own quirky way.

"Terry! New haircut? looking nice!" Izuku called out to a minion hammering down nails. Terry glanced up, gave a thumbs-up, and went right back to work, hammering slightly off-beat with the song. He eventually hit another minion in the head with his hammer as he kept trolling him by moving the nail just before he hit it.

"Joe, steady progress, keep it up!" Izuku cheered to another minion who was calmly withstanding a flamethrower blast to the face.

"Ah, pank yu!" Joe responded, not even flinching as he took a flamethrower to the face.

 Izuku shook his head with a grin. Then he turned to Ryan, who was manning a construction jumping jack machine, violently vibrating with the machine's rhythm. "Great job, Ryan!" Izuku shouted over the noise.

Ryan looked up, shaking uncontrollably. "WHAT?!"

"I said great job!" Izuku repeated, louder this time.

"WHAAT?!"

Izuku sighed fondly. "Nevermind!" He chuckled as he moved on, leaving Ryan to vibrate uncontrollably. As he walked further, he spotted Mel supervising a group of minions organizing their newly acquired loot.

"Mel! How's everything coming along?" Izuku called out, giving his second-in-command a nod.

"Tadda leelas, Boss! Respin pin absgar ta mew," Mel confirmed their steady progress, holding a clipboard and looking much more serious than the rest of the minions.

"Excellent," Izuku said, his grin widening. He appreciated Mel's dedication and he was sure that the Bank of Evil was going to be satisfied with his despicable deed this week. Over the past two months, Izuku had started to genuinely connect with his minions. While he couldn't speak their bizarre language fluently, he was beginning to understand it better. It reminded him of how a dog owner understands their pet—not through words, but through shared experiences and unspoken communication. He didn't mean it in a degrading way at all; in fact, the bond he felt with them was surprisingly strong. Despite the minions' goofy antics, they always got the job done.

The minions' antics were chaotic, but beneath it all, they were loyal and reliable (most of the time since there were times that he really wanted to strangle them during important heists and stuff). But no matter how wild things got, they always managed to get the job done, often in the most unexpected ways. It was a strange dynamic, but it worked.

Izuku clapped his hands to gather everyone's attention, his voice booming with excitement. "Alright, everyone! Listen up!"

The chatter and laughter among the minions slowly faded as they turned to face their leader, curious about what he had to say.

Deku cleared his throat. "As you can see, our heist was a massive success! We've made a name for ourselves once again!" His words ignited a wave of cheers and jubilant shouts from the minions, their energy palpable.

"And if that wasn't enough, we're back on the news!" Izuku continued, his grin stretching wider. "They're talking about us, about our daring exploits, and how we're shaking things up in Musutafu! This is just the beginning, folks!"

The minions erupted into raucous cheers, clapping their hands and dancing in place.

"So, I want to thank each and every one of you for your hard work and dedication!" Izuku raised his hands, trying to quiet them down again. "But remember, this is only the first step! We have to keep pushing forward, keep making waves. Now, does anyone have any ideas or suggestion for our next big hit?" He asked the crowd of minions who roared once again.

Suddenly, a rounder, taller minion stepped forward, his wide eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. Izuku's face crunched in uncertainty as he recognized the chattiest of his minions. "Y-Yes... what is it, Otto?" he asked, bracing himself.

Otto wasted no time, launching into an energetic monologue filled with a flurry of words. "La, ko, ka tos awnyok, recha? pem soko alemid kaylay a ion da oudmet noor giesag! pem tup kaylay balloons yee bak yee yay lega a dance-off! yee pem—"

"Er, yes, I-" Izuku tried to interject, raising a hand, but Otto was on a roll. "Yee pem tup invite tokas! pik polo be ta obe ion rib! sola titwas tadda ta agei we'd kaylay! pem tup even—"

In the back of the crowd, Kevin rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Ugh, blah, blah, blah..." he muttered, crossing his arms as he watched Otto go on.

Izuku's brow twitched in annoyance as Otto continued to spout nonsense. Is this how other people feel when I mutter? He thought, a mix of amusement and irritation bubbling up inside him.

"Aaaalright! T-That's enough, Otto!" Izuku finally managed to interject, silencing the chatty minion. "I'll... take your, uh, ideas into consideration." He said, knowing full well that understanding Otto was a different beast altogether. Sure he was starting to understand what his minions were saying, but Otto was the exception as like just now, he had no clue what he was talking about.

He re-composed himself before continuing. "Uhm, I'll give you guys time to think about it. Now, I have to go because I have a meeting I need to attend with someone important. So, get back to work, everyone! Mel, you know the drill! You're in charge!"

Mel snapped a salute, his eyes shining with determination. "Si!"

Izuku smiled as he stepped away from the commotion, appreciating the unique dynamic he had cultivated with his minions. Deku got serious once again as he exited the base. Giran wanted to see him.

---

Katsuki Bakugou's fist clenched as he watched the news. The screen displayed a live report on the latest exploits of the young villain known as Deku, who had pulled off a daring heist at the largest bank in Musutafu. Clips of the chaotic escape flashed across the screen—Deku in his armored van, weaving through traffic, while police and pro heroes struggled to keep up.

Once the news reported Deku's latest escape, Bakugou turned off the TV and hung his head low, frustration bubbling within him. That damn Deku...! he thought, irritation coursing through his veins. But, he wasn't just angry at Deku; he was furious with himself.

Just as how much he was feeling angry, he was equally feeling guilty. He was angry at himself for being a significant factor in why Deku had become the villain he was today.

Once it was revealed that Deku was actually Izuku Midoriya, Bakugou's parents...had not taken the news well. And they especially did not take liking to him admitting to all that he did to Izuku since they were four. Their disappointment was palpable, and they were particularly upset when he admitted to all the torment he had subjected Izuku to since they were four years old.

So, being grounded for the entire year, Bakugou faced the consequences of his actions for perhaps the first time in his life. He had also never seen his father so angry before. So that was how he got to this point; no more training, no more hero work, no more U.A, just the empty walls of his room and the haunting thought that he'd helped drive Izuku down this dark path.

He hated the fact that everyone was now treating him like some sort of ticking time bomb, as if any moment he might explode in a fit of rage. The whispers behind his back and the wary glances from his classmates gnawed at him, amplifying the fury and guilt he already felt.

He hated that he had gotten himself into this predicament. Every punch he threw, every taunt he uttered, echoed back at him now, reminding him of how much he had pushed and beat down Izuku.

He hated that Deku had chosen the villainous path he had, and the thought of someone like fucking Deku making a name for himself as a criminal left a sour taste in Bakugou's mouth.

And most of all, he hated the fact that there was no one else to blame but himself.

Bakugou sighed as he slumped in his bed. In the past two months, Bakugou's parents had told him to quote-unquote, 'look back and think about what you did.' And though he had rolled his eyes at the time, he found himself doing just that.

In the solitude of his room, surrounded by the silence that felt almost suffocating, Bakugou replayed memories of Izuku over and over in his mind. He saw the way he had bullied Izuku, the cruel laughter he had unleashed on his dreams, and the countless moments he had dismissed him as worthless. Each memory cut deeper, reminding him of the times he had used his quirk on Izuku simply because he lacked one. The cruel taunts, especially when he had told Izuku to go kill himself, echoed in his ears, heavy with regret.

Bakugou realized that his actions were far from those of a hero. He had betrayed everything he believed a hero stood for, especially the ideals embodied by All Might, the symbol he had always admired and aspired to surpass.

To Bakugou, All Might represented strength, unwavering power, and the embodiment of a hero who always wins in the end. It was then Bakugou had finally realized that he had absolutely misunderstood on what made All Might, All Might.

His hands suddenly smoked. Sure he may be grounded, but he couldn't just sit and do nothing. He had to act and go talk to Deku at least one more time. Suddenly, his mother barged into his room, her expression a mix of determination, strictness and concern. "Oi, brat. We're going."

"Going where?" Bakugou asked, annoyance creeping into his voice as he sat up, his mind still swirling with thoughts of Izuku and his own regrets.

"To Inko," Mitsuki replied firmly, crossing her arms. "We're going to go to talk to her."

"Why?" Katsuki asked, his brows furrowing as he stood up from his bed.

Mitsuki's gaze hardened and her tone remained firm. "Because, Katsuki, you need to start taking responsibility for what you've done."

Katsuki's fists clenched at his sides. "Tch, it's not like talking to her is gonna fix anything. What am I supposed to say?"

"Apologize. That's you start taking accountability." His mother explained sternly. Katsuki sighed heavily, his fists still clenched at his sides. "Alright," he muttered, his voice low and conflicted.

Mitsuki nodded, her stern expression softening for just a moment as she turned to leave the room. "We'll be waiting for you downstairs. Don't take too long."

---

Izuku arrived to the place where his meeting with Giran is supposed to take place. The place where his meeting with Giran was supposed to take place was a run-down, shady bar tucked away in the back alleys of the city.

He stepped out of the van, adjusting his outfit as he looked around to make sure no pro hero saw him. Once entering, the bar was as desolate as it looked from the outside, with only one figure seated at a table in the corner. Giran, leaning back with his usual smug grin, lazily waved a hand that had a cigar in it, motioning for Izuku to join him.

"Well, look who finally showed up," Giran remarked, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Izuku glanced around once more, ensuring they were truly alone, before striding over and sitting across from Giran. "I'm here. Let's get this over with," Izuku said, his tone low but resolute.

Giran chuckled, flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Straight to business, huh? I like that." He leaned forward, sliding a small folder across the table. "Alright, kid, I got a little favor I need done."

Izuku raised a brow. "And what's in it for me?" he asked, sharp and to the point.

Giran grinned, clearly amused. "Already negotiating, huh?" He tilted his head, sizing Izuku up. "Not bad."

Izuku shrugged casually. "They say if you're good at something, never do it for free."

Giran's grin widened further. "Hm. Solid advice, kid." He said.

"Anyways, what is this favor and what do I get from it?" Izuku asked once again, getting back on topic.

"Here's the deal, kid—you pull this off, and you'll get something valuable: information," Giran said, his tone more serious. "You do this task for me, and I'll hand you the layout of Gang Orca's agency building. I know you've been wanting to hit a hero agency for a while, so what do you say?"

Izuku's eyes narrowed in interest as he leaned forward slightly. Gang Orca was no small target—he was a high-ranking pro hero, and hitting his agency had been on Deku's mind for a while now. His previous attempts to gather intel on the place had failed, but this...this may be the opportunity he'd been waiting for.

Deku considered it carefully. Giran was someone he had been planning to cut ties with soon, especially now that he had other resources, like the Bank of Evil. But Giran always came with intriguing propositions, ones that Izuku couldn't ignore.

Before agreeing, Izuku leaned back and crossed his arms, his expression hardening. "Where's the proof?" he asked, his voice sharp and calculated. It was a question he always needed to ask before making deals like this.

Giran raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Smart kid," he muttered, clearly impressed. Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a flash drive and tossed it onto the table between them. "There's your proof. A little preview of the security details and staff movements at the agency. Just enough to show I'm not playing games, but not enough to go solo without my full map."

Izuku eyed the flash drive for a moment, then looked back at Giran. "You always know how to keep things interesting." He commented blatantly before taking a breath.

"Alright," Izuku finally said, conviction evident in his tone. "Deal. What do I need to do?"

Giran's smirk widened as he leaned forward, taking a drag of his cigarette. "Glad you're on board, kid. Here's the job: There's an assortment of high-tech healing machines stashed away in Jakku Hospital. Real top-of-the-line stuff. Your task? Simple—steal them and bring them back here."

Izuku fought the urge to raise an eyebrow at the strange nature of the mission. Healing machines? And in a city far from Musutafu, no less. He didn't know why Giran wanted them, but it wasn't his place to ask. Business was business.

"If you're worried about security, I've got an inside man," Giran added, sliding a small slip of paper with a code across the table. "You tell him this, and he'll give you a hand if things get sticky."

Izuku's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion. Giran was being unusually helpful for a mission like this. What's the catch? Is there a catch or is this mission that dangerous? He wondered, his instincts buzzing.

"What's in it for you, Giran?" he asked, his suspicion evident. "This seems a bit too...generous. Especially for a mission like this."

Giran exhaled slowly, his usual grin softening into something more calculated. "Smart kid. There's always a catch, right?" He leaned back in his chair. "Let's just say that my other acquaintances are in need of those things. That's all you need to know."

Izuku nodded. That's a fair answer, but there was one more thing he needed to know. "And you're sure there won't be any pro heroes sniffing around Jakku Hospital?"

Giran shook his head. "Not this time. Place is quiet, security's minimal thanks to my insider. You slip in, grab what we need, and slip out before anyone's the wiser."

Izuku studied Giran for a moment longer, then pocketed the paper. 'This better be worth it.'

"Alright," he said finally. "I'll get it done."

He stood up but paused just before leaving, glancing around the dingy, dimly lit bar. "By the way, I've been wondering, is this your bar? It's...quite large."

Giran let out a raspy chuckle, flicking ash from his cigarette. "Nah, kid, this place isn't mine. It belongs to some of my other acquaintances. I just use it from time to time." He grinned, showing his crooked teeth. "Convenient, ain't it?"

Izuku nodded, though the place gave him an uneasy feeling. "Yeah...convenient," he said before turning on his heel and heading for the exit.

As soon as Izuku stepped out of the bar, the dimly lit screen behind Giran flickered to life. The words 'No Voice' appeared across the display in glowing letters. Giran remained seated, casually blowing out a puff of smoke as he glanced at the screen.

"Well, what do you think?" Giran asked, his tone unusually serious now.

The voice on the other side responded, distorted but cold. "He is indeed interesting." There was a pause, as if weighing each word carefully. "Ambitious. Innovative and cautious. From what he's done in the past two months, he's got some immense potential for someone quirkless. Interesting, indeed."

Giran smirked. "Knew you'd like him."

"Keep an eye on him," the voice commanded. "We may have a great potential future ally in our midst."

Giran nodded. "Understood." The screen blinked off, leaving him alone once again in the shadowy bar, a satisfied grin stretching across his face.

---

VVVRRRR! The ship's engines roared as Deku soared through the night sky, piloting a vessel that looked eerily similar to the Razor Crest from Star Wars. The sleek design cut through the clouds with ease, a testament to the advanced tech he had managed to acquire and create through his growing connections as well as his talented mind. His resources from the Bank of Evil, combined with his ever-efficient minions, allowed him to churn out complex creations and inventions at a fraction of the time it would've taken on his own.

As Deku sat in the cockpit, his eyes scanned the horizon, plotting the course toward Jakku Hospital. "Almost there, guys!" He told his squad of minions whom he brought with him as he gripped the controls tightly.

Izuku landed the ship in a secluded and suitable hill, the quiet hum of the engines fading as he powered down. He used his goggles to the hospital looming in the distance, dimly lit and seemingly deserted, just like Giran had promised. Still, he wasn't going to let his guard down.

"Alright, guys, it's time for action. Tim, Stuart, you're in charge of the ship. Everyone else, follow me!" He ordered before finally setting off to his mission.

"Alright, guys, it's time for action," Izuku commanded. "Tim, Stuart, you're in charge of the ship. Keep it running and be ready for a quick getaway."

The two minions saluted eagerly. "Aye aye, boss!"

"Everyone else, follow me!" Izuku said, motioning to the rest of his squad as they exited the ship and quietly set off toward the hospital, disappearing into the shadows.

Now, their second heist of the day was on. Deku was on a roll.

Izuku led the way, creeping toward the hospital with exaggerated, over-the-top stealth. He hunched low, tiptoeing with an almost comical level of caution, even though the hospital was empty. His eyes darted left and right, as if expecting someone to jump out at any moment.

Behind him, the minions followed suit, mimicking his movements in their usual chaotic fashion. One of them, Bob, kept bumping into the others as he fumbled with a comically oversized flashlight, even though the hospital's lights were still on. Kevin and Dave were engaged in a whispered argument over who should hold the bag for the loot first, and Mel kept shushing them in exasperation.

Izuku, hearing the commotion behind him, turned with an exaggerated "Shh!" finger to his lips, only to watch as one of the minions, Carl, accidentally set off a squeaky floor tile. The sound echoed through the empty hallway, and Izuku froze, eyes wide in mock terror.

With no alarms sounding, Izuku gave an awkward shrug and continued forward, motioning for the others to keep it together. The group moved deeper into the hospital, their antics turning the heist into more of a comedy one would see in a cartoon or something rather than a covert operation.

Dave suddenly tripped over a rolling gurney when he tried to lean against in to relax, sending it zooming down the hallway and sounding more squeaky than it should've. Izuku facepalmed, whispering under his breath, "Why am I doing this again?"

ust as they were about to move forward, a calm voice spoke up from behind them. "May I help you people?"

"AHHHHH!"

In an instant, panic erupted. Izuku whirled around and fired his freeze ray, while his minions screamed and unleashed an arsenal of gadgets and weapons in all directions. The room was filled with flashes of light, smoke, and the chaotic clanging of objects hitting the walls.

When the dust settled, they stood wide-eyed in shock.

Standing before them, completely unfazed and untouched, was an old man in a doctor's uniform. He calmly adjusted his glasses, looking at them with mild interest.

They had missed every shot.

The old man, dressed in a doctor's uniform, calmly adjusted his glasses. "I asked if I could help you," he repeated, as though he hadn't just been on the receiving end of a full-blown, frantic assault. He glanced around at the scorch marks and bits of ice scattered around the room, then looked back at the group with a raised eyebrow.

The doctor gave a patient sigh. "You're here for the healing machines, aren't you?" he asked calmly.

Izuku straightened up, trying to regain some semblance of authority. "Yes, but...who are you? And how did you—"

"I'm the 'inside man' Giran mentioned," the old doctor interrupted, smiling faintly. "Now, shall we get back to the business at hand?"

Izuku and his minions exchanged a confused glance. He quickly pulled out the piece of paper Gran gave him from his jacket. "You're the help? Er, 'You're no good'?" Izuku asked, reading the paper still not fully convinced.

The doctor nodded with a satisfied smile. "That is correct. I've been expecting you. Come now, let's not waste any more time. I'll show you where you need to be. I've spent a great deal of effort diverting suspicion from the pro heroes, so there's no need to worry. No one is here but me and you." His eyes flicked over to the scattered wreckage from Deku's and his minions' wild attack. "And perhaps... try not to break anything else on your way out."

Izuku and his minions stood in stunned silence for a moment, then quickly scrambled to compose themselves. "R-Right," Izuku said, embarrassed but relieved. "Lead the way."

As they ventured deeper into the hospital, Izuku's mind churned with doubt. It can't be this easy, he thought, glancing at the doctor walking ahead. The halls were empty, no security, no cameras—everything felt too convenient.

The minions were, of course, oblivious. They whispered and giggled among themselves, goofing around as if this were just another carefree mission. But Izuku knew better. His instincts screamed that something was off.

Is this a trap? he wondered. Did Giran send me into a setup? Izuku remained composed on the outside, but his eyes scanned every corner, his body ready for anything. He kept his freeze ray ready, just in case this supposed ally decided to turn on him.

Suddenly, the old doctor struck up a conversation. "You know, I've heard quite a lot about you, Mr. Deku." He said as they both kept walking.

"Have you, huh?" Izuku asked casually.

"Of course! You were in today's news after all." He answered brightly.

"News travels fast," Izuku replied coolly, keeping his voice steady. "Guess I'm getting more popular these days."

The doctor chuckled, a strange, hollow sound echoing through the sterile halls. "Indeed. Your skills are impressive, but your rise has been...fascinating to watch. From a quirkless boy to the mastermind of highly strategic heists. People are starting to wonder if your actions have a larger purpose."

Deku actually blinked at the doctor's words and it got him thinking. What exactly is his goal? He had started down this path for a reason—to be accepted and to find a purpose in his life. But what exactly is his goal as a villain, though? Why do the things that he does? Izuku internally sighed. Guess that's another thing he needs to figure out as there was no time for self-reflection right now.

"I... just do what I have to," Izuku replied, his voice steady as he sidestepped the comment. "No grand plan, just...doing my own thing."

The doctor raised an amused brow, his smile remaining distant, almost unreadable. "Is that so?"

There was something unsettling about the way the doctor responded, like he was looking past Izuku's words and seeing something deeper, something even Izuku himself hadn't fully acknowledged. But Deku wasn't about to let that rattle him. He'd gotten this far by keeping his head down and doing what needed to be done.

"Yeah," Izuku said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "No big philosophy behind it. I just go with the flow."

The doctor chuckled again, that eerie hollow sound echoing through the room. "Hmm, 'going with the flow' can only take you so far, Mr. Deku. Eventually, the tide will turn. And when it does...you'll have to decide what you're really swimming toward."

Izuku's eyes narrowed in suspicion, his expression unreadable. What is this guy's deal? He couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't just idle chit-chat. 'Is he testing me or something?' He wondered.

"I...see." Izuku only replied, not wanting to delve further into the conversation.

Soon enough, they arrived at their destined place and stopped in front of a large metal door. "Here we are," he said with a calm, collected tone. He pressed a button, and the door slid open, revealing rows of advanced medical machines gleaming in the sterile light.

"This is it?" Izuku asked, trying to hide the surprise in his voice as this whole thing still felt off. His instincts screamed at him that something wasn’t right. 'No way Giran sent him just to make some big errand delivery!' He thought.

The doctor turned, nodding. "Everything Giran promised you. You're free to take what you came for, Mr. Deku."

The doctor nodded, his face betraying no emotion. "Everything Giran promised you. You're free to take what you came for, Mr. Deku."

Izuku's hand gripped his freeze ray a little tighter, but outwardly, he remained calm. "Alright," he said slowly, glancing at his minions, who were already gawking at the machines. "Everyone, start loading them up!"

His minions gave their salute before scrambling to obey, their clumsy but efficient movements quickly getting to work.

Izuku couldn't help but keep one eye on the doctor as they moved. The old man stood there, smiling that eerie, knowing smile, as if he had secrets Deku wasn't privy to. Something about Garaki's presence gnawed at him. He felt like he'd seen him somewhere before, but the memory was elusive. Izuku shook the thought off, dismissing it as a coincidence.

"Alright, let's move out, everybody!" Deku ordered once his minions finished loading the equipment. Despite completing the task, the uneasy feeling clung to him. Something about the whole job felt too convenient, too... easy. If it wasn't a trap now, it might be a trap later.

However, just before her left, Izuku's eyes narrowed sharply at the doctor as he spoke up once more. "Your name."

"Excuse me?" The doctor asked, raising a brow.

"Your real name. Tell me." Izuku insisted, his tone a bit demanding.

For a brief moment, silence hung in the air before the doctor chuckled lightly, as though he'd been waiting for this exchange. "Very well. My name is Dr. Garaki."  

"Dr. Garaki...right. I'll remember that," Deku replied, his voice sharp but measured. He gave the doctor one final glance, still unsure of the man's true intentions, before turning and heading back to his ship.

As Izuku walked away, Dr. Garaki smiled knowingly, his eyes glinting with something unreadable. "I wish you the best of luck on your journey, young man," the doctor called after him, his voice carrying a cryptic undertone.

Deku didn't respond, but the words lingered in his mind as he finally left to go board his ship. The entire encounter had left him unsettled, with more questions than answers. What was Garaki really up to? And why did this whole deal seem too easy? Deku mentally noted to tread more carefully around Giran’s 'favors' in the future.

As he stepped inside the ship, his sense of unease was momentarily replaced by surprise and annoyance at the chaotic scene that greeted him. His minions were in full party mode—dancing, singing, head-bopping to blaring music, and even engaging in their signature butt-slapping antics. It seems that they're already going on to celebrate even if this mission was worryingly easy. Izuku already knew that his minions have zero sense of emotional awareness, but that doesn't make their antics like this even more mildly annoying.

Deku's eyes narrowed, and he fixed a sharp glare on Tim and Stuart, the apparent ringleaders of the nonsense and the ones he put in charge of the ship when they were gone. "What the hell is going on here?" He demanded as his brow twitch in mild irritation.

Tim grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "Pem fem bored!" he said, as if that explained everything.

Deku sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Right... Of course, you’re bored. Get this ship ready for takeoff. Now."

The minions scrambled, cutting the music and halting their antics as the ship returned to some semblance of order. As Deku sat down in the cockpit, he allowed himself a brief smirk. Despite their antics, at least his minions always kept things lively.

Dekku gripped onto the controls as the ship’s engines roared to life. The minions quickly strapped themselves in, and with a steady hand, he lifted off the ground. The airship shot into the night sky, leaving Jakku Hospital behind. Whatever game Giran and Dr. Garaki were playing, he’d have to figure it out in time. For now, his mission was complete and he needed that flash drive containing details about Gang Orca's agency base. Deku's ship blasted off into the horizon, heading straight for Musutafu.

Chapter Text

The Bakugou family stood quietly in front of Inko Midoriya's apartment door. Mitsuki, with her arms crossed and a firm expression, was clearly not going to let the situation slide. Today, she was determined to make her son, Katsuki, apologize for everything he'd done to Izuku.

Katsuki, on the other hand, had his fists stuffed in his pockets, and although there was no sign of anger or his usual scowl on his face, it was clear that he was dreading what was about to happen. His father, Masaru, stood beside him, trying to offer quiet support. Mitsuki finally knocked on the door, the sound echoing in the silent hallway.

"This is long overdue," she muttered under her breath.

"What is it this time, offic-...Mitsuki?" Once the door finally, Inko revealed herself and she was surprised to see who it was. She couldn't remember the last time she had talked with her old friend, Mitsuki.

The Bakugou family were also equally surprised to see the state of Inko. To say that she looked to be in a terrible state was an understatement. Her eyes were tired, with dark circles underneath, her posture slumped, and her dark green hair, which was normally neatly kept, was unkempt and dull. She looked like she hadn't slept well in weeks, possibly months.

Mitsuki's eyes widened in shock, not expecting to see her old friend in such a state. "Inko..." Mitsuki whispered, her voice softening with concern. Even Katsuki and Masaru exchanged uneasy glances.

Inko blinked at them, trying to muster a polite smile, though it was strained. "Mitsuki... Katsuki, Masaru...What are you doing here?"

Mitsuki took a breath, stepping forward slightly. "We...came here to talk...and to apologize, especially Katsuki." She gave her son a sharp look, silently urging him to speak.

Katsuki, though uncomfortable, hesitated for a moment before finally muttering, "Yeah... We need to talk."

Inko's expression shifted from confusion to surprise, then something close to sadness. "Apologize? After everything...?" She asked, tilting her head slightly,

Mitsuki nodded. "Yes." she confirmed before asking in a more concerned tone. "Inko...are you okay?"

Inko blinked at the question, her lips pressing into a thin line as she glanced down. "I..." She hesitated, clearly caught off guard. It was a long time since anyone bothered to ask about her well-being, let alone someone from the Bakugou family. She fidgeted with the edge of her sweater before finally looking back at them, her eyes tired and weary.

"I've been better," she admitted, her voice quieter than usual. "But...come in. I suppose we should talk."

Mitsuki exchanged a brief, concerned glance with Katsuki before following Inko inside. The apartment felt heavy with silence, the air thick with a mix of tension and unspoken pain. Katsuki trailed behind, clearly uncomfortable but knowing this conversation was necessary.

Once they were all seated, Inko looked at them, her eyes brimming with a mix of emotions. "So... what is it you came to say?" With that, Mistuki looked at her son, urging him to say what he has to say.

Katsuki took a deep breath and after an awkward pause, finally began speaking. "Auntie Inko, I...I was a real piece of work. I treated De-...Izuku like trash, like he was beneath me, just 'cause he didn't have a quirk. I hurt him. For years. And...I know nothing I say can make up for that."

Katsuki swallowed, his voice dropping lower. "And ...I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I did to him." He bowed and finally managed to get those words out his throat, actually apologize to someone probably for the first time in his life. The sincerity in Katsuki's tone was jarring, almost shocking. Mitsuki stared at her son, eyes softening at the rare display of vulnerability. She turned back to Inko, waiting for her response.

Inko sat quietly for a moment, taking in his surprising words. There was a long, heavy silence before she finally spoke, her voice trembling just a bit. "Thank you, Katsuki. I can hear that you mean it." Her eyes softened, but instead of showing relief or anger, there was something else—sadness, mixed with guilt.

"But the truth is..." Inko hesitated, her eyes filling with tears as she continued, "I'm just as much to blame for what happened to Izuku as you are."

Mitsuki blinked in disbelief. "Inko, no, that's not—"

"I know what you've been doing to my son, Katsuki."  Inko interrupted, her voice gaining strength as she spoke. "And...I did nothing about it." She said as he lowered her head, her tone sounding more guilty.

"W-What...? What do you mean, Inko?" Masaru asked with worrying eyes, not wanting to believe what he's seeing.

"I—I failed to protect him. I saw what was happening to Izuku, all those years, and I didn't do anything to stop it nor to help him. I neglected him. I kept telling myself he would be fine. That things would change. That maybe if I drown myself in more sorrow and alcohol, I could ignore everything that went wrong with my life and revel inside my own delusions and escape reality. I thought maybe if he could just continue to smile through it all or that he'll just give up on his dream of becoming a hero...But it didn't happen." Her voice cracked as tears began to stream from her eyes. "And then I...I said horrible things to him. Things no mother should say to her child. I hurt him more than anyone else ever could."

The room felt heavy with the weight of Inko's confession, her voice trembling with each word as she revealed the dark truth of her own role in Izuku's suffering. Mitsuki's face twisted with a mix of shock and sorrow, while Masaru, ever the quiet presence, seemed to reel from the reality unfolding before him.

Katsuki stood frozen, the full weight of what Inko had said crashing down on him. He now knew that what he did was wrong, but to hear that Izuku's own mother, auntie Inko, confess that she had failed him too? It was a revelation and level of guilt he hadn't expected. The idea that both of them had let Izuku down in different ways began to settle into his mind, and it felt suffocating.

"I-..." Mitsuki tried to say something! Anything to make light or sense out of the situation but the words wouldn't leave her mouth. She was absolutely speechless. This situation was a lot more dire than any of them had expected.

Inko's words hung in the air, her self-loathing palpable as she let out a bitter, humorless chuckle. "I understand if you think I'm some sort of monster now," she whispered, her voice breaking.

"No, Inko..." Mitsuki finally managed to say, her voice strained with emotion. "You're not a monster. You're just...a mother who was hurting." She swallowed hard, not even believing in her own words as she tried to process everything.

Katsuki stood rigid, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were ghost-white. This...this was not how he had expected things to go. He'd come here thinking he would be the one to apologize, to own up to the years of torment he had inflicted on Izuku. But now, hearing Auntie Inko take on as much guilt as he felt? It was madness. The whole situation was spiraling beyond what he could comprehend, and it was driving him crazy. His emotions were going all over the place and he didn't exactly know how to feel about all of this.

Actually, No, fuck that. He knew exactly what he was feeling: Anger.

Anger toward this whole goddamn mess of a situation. Anger toward Auntie Inko—for failing Izuku, for letting it get this far. Anger toward himself—because deep down, he knew he had been cruel, selfish, and insecure as well as being a huge reason for why Izuku set down the path of villainy. And there was a burning, festering anger toward Izuku himself—for believing in Katsuki's words, for giving up on himself and everyone else. It was all too much, and Katsuki didn't know where to put any of it.

"Dammit!" Katsuki growled, slamming his fist into his palm, making his parents flinch in surprise. His whole body vibrated with frustration. He was tired of feeling this way. Tired of this mess. Tired of all the mistakes and regrets that clung to them like a weight they couldn't shake off.

Inko flinched at the outburst, her own guilt crashing over her like waves, but she didn't speak. She understood Katsuki's anger because it mirrored her own—the anger she held against herself for failing to protect her son when he needed her the most.

Mitsuki, though just as stunned, reached out to her son. "Katsuki..." she began softly, but he shook his head.

"No, hag," Katsuki grunted, his voice filled with bitterness. "We all fucked up. Every single one of us." He looked at Inko, his eyes blazing with a storm of emotions. "But that doesn't change a damn thing! I-...!" Katsuki tried to say something that'll uplift the spirit, but nothing came out.

The situation must be really bad if it got the Katsuki trying to be optimistic.

Even Masaru had to run his hand through his face in despondency. "How did it get this bad...?"

Inko glanced up at the family. There was no anger in her eyes, just a sadness that ran deep. "I ask myself that every day," she said softly. "How did I let it get this bad? Why didn't I do more?" Her voice trembled with guilt. "But...the truth is, Katsuki, I was scared. I was scared of what would happen if I stepped in. And now...I've lost him."

"Well, we're not gonna lose him," Katsuki said finally, his voice low but filled with determination. "We're gonna find him. And when we do, damn straight I'm gonna make sure he knows that I was fucking wrong! I'll make sure he knows that none of this should've happened." He looked at Inko directly. "You might've messed up, Auntie Inko, but so did I. We all fucking did. But that doesn't mean we can't fix it!"

Inko sniffled, nodding in agreement, though the weight of her guilt still hung heavy on her shoulders. "But...what if he doesn't want to see me?" she asked, her voice small. "What if I've already pushed him too far away?"

Katsuki clenched his fists, the frustration evident in the way his jaw tightened. "Then we'll make him see you," he said firmly, the fire of determination blazing in his eyes. "Izuku's stubborn as all hell, but so am I. And if there's one thing I know, it's that giving up ain't an option. Not this time." He finally declared what he had been thinking these past couple months. He may not be able to be a hero anymore, but he was done sitting around and doing nothing.

Masuru stepped forward, placing a hand on Inko's shoulder. "Listen, Inko. I know you're scared. We all are. But Katsuki's right. Izuku might be angry or hurt, but deep down, he's your son. And I don't believe for a second that he doesn't want his mom to be there for him. You just need to give him a reason to believe it."

Inko let out a shaky breath, wiping her tear-stained face. "You don't know the things I said, Mitsuki. The things I...I said to my own child." Her voice broke again, and she shook her head. "What if it's too late?"

Katsuki met her gaze, the usual cockiness now gone, replaced by something raw and sincere. "It's only too late if we let it be." His voice lowered, though the determination still rang through. "We don't know where he is, or what he's thinking right now. But I do know one thing: Izuku ain't someone who gives up easily. So we can't either." He tried not to let that pang of guilt eat him up. knowing that he himself had no right to be saying any of this. But he was done being all sappy and shit and actually start doing.

Inko still looked uncertain, her eyes downcast. "I... I don't know, Katsuki," she said weakly, her voice filled with despair. "I just don't know anymore." Her words echoed in the heavy silence that filled the room, the weight of her uncertainty pressing down on them all. Then, breaking the silence, the blaring voice of the news anchor from television cut through the tension in the room. Everyone's eyes flicked toward the screen as a headline rolled across the bottom: 'Breaking News: The young quirkless villain, Deku, strikes again—successful heist at Musutafu's largest bank!'

Katsuki lowered his head. 'Damn it, Deku, he thought bitterly. Two months had gone by, and with each new heist, each escape, Izuku seemed to be sinking further into the role of a villain and seemed to be on a generational run to commit as many villain acts as much as possible. Katsuki had never realized just how cunning and capable Izuku was, especially without a quirk. But now? He was outsmarting actual pro heroes, evading capture, and making a name for himself as a criminal.

He also caught a glimpse of these small, yellow...things that were always by Deku's side, which Katsuki guessed to be how Deku was able to do the things that he does. He has no damn clue who or what they were, but it was clear that they worked for Deku. That fact alone surprised the explosive blonde. Deku? With followers? He couldn't wrap his head around it. The same quirkless kid he used to bully was now commanding a group of minions, successfully pulling off high-stakes heists. It made Katsuki feel like he was losing control of a situation he'd never really understood to begin with.

Mitsuki suddenly sighed. "Alright, we'll give you some space and we also need some time to...take this all in as well. You alright with that, Inko?" She asked her old friend in a worried tone.

Inko nodded weakly, her eyes still filled with lingering sadness. "Y-Yes, I understand, Mitsuki," she replied softly, her voice almost breaking. "I think...I think I need some time too."

Mitsuki placed a hand on Inko's shoulder, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "We'll figure this out. You're not alone in this, okay?"

Inko gave her a faint, grateful smile. "Thank you, Mitsuki."

With that, Mitsuki gestured to Katsuki and Masaru, silently telling them it was time to leave. Katsuki, however, lingered for a moment, his fists still clenched at his sides, his mind racing with thoughts of Deku. He was conflicted, furious with himself, with the situation, but most of all, with how far things had gone.

As the Bakugou family walked out of the apartment, the tension between them was thick. None of them spoke as they made their way to the elevator. Mitsuki let out a deep sigh, the reality of everything hitting her hard. Katsuki stayed silent, but his mind was made up. He was going to do something. But what? How? That's something he'll need to figure out since he's more than sure that his parents would just let him freely roam around, trying to find Izuku.

This isn't over. He wasn't going to let things end like this. Not for Deku. Not for himself.

---

It was a quiet, perfect night and Deku stood at the edge of the rooftop, his eyes fixed on the large building that was Gang Orca's main agency building which was, of course, similar to that of an aquarium. The moonlight reflected off the glass walls, casting long shadows over the city streets below. His minions, huddled behind him, whispered excitedly in their usual gibberish, eager to begin the operation.

A small, confident grin etched upon his face. He had been wanting to hit a high-ranking pro hero's agency for a while, but past attempts had failed, each time narrowly escaping by the skin of his boots. But now, armed with the layout of Gang Orca's agency from the USB he got from Giran, he was confident in his plan.

The problem was...he didn't exactly know what he was going to steal to be completely honest.

He had ideas, sure—valuable information, classified documents, anything to use against the pro heroes. But when it came to Gang Orca's agency, specifically, Izuku found himself at a bit of a loss. What did Gang Orca even have that would be worth taking?

Izuku held his chin in thought, his mind running wild with possibilities. Maybe he could steal a shark from the aquarium, just for the fun of it? Keep it as a pet, even? Or he could release all of the marine animals back into the ocean, just to mess with Gang Orca's operations. The image of Gang Orca frantically chasing after dolphins inadvertently made Izuku chuckle under his breath.

Or maybe he should swipe one of the hero's statues or something. Not that he'd ever use it for anything, but just stealing it from him out of sheer spite and principle. Out of his petty motive to just piss off and annoy the pro heroes and to let Gang Orca know that someone had breached into his main hero agency building to steal some things, and there was nothing he could do about it!

Yep! That will be his goal for tonight!

Izuku turned back to face his crew of minions... who were already frolicking and messing around, as usual, completely ignoring the seriousness of the situation. He sighed deeply before clearing his throat to get their attention. "Alright, enough messing around. We have a job to do," he said, his voice firm but not overly harsh.

The minions immediately formed a line, their little hands saluting in a comical yet disciplined manner.

"We're going inside, and we're gonna take something...something, er, important." His smirk returned as he began outlining the mission. "We're here to make...a statement. We're going to swipe one of Gang Orca's prized possessions, like a statue or something—just to let him know that we were here and that there's nothing he can do about it!...Ya like that?"

His minions nodded enthusiastically, always at the ready for any kind of mission from heir leader. "Si!" They roger'd.

"Good!" Izuku's smirk widened as he locked eyes with his eager, albeit chaotic, minions. "Alright, listen up!" he barked, pointing toward the tall building looming ahead.

"Tim, you and Stuart will create minor distractions. I want a clear path created for both intrusion and escape by luring security guards away, shutting off sensors, cameras, and all types of security, alarms, all that. Got it? And don't get caught."

Tim gave a firm nod, saluting with determination, while Stuart grinned mischievously.

"Kevin," Deku continued, turning to another minion, "you're with me. We'll head straight for the vault room, or wherever they're keeping their valuable things. Follow my lead, and keep quiet."

Kevin, ever the loyal minion, nodded solemnly, already having his weapons and tools at the ready.

"The rest of you, guard the ship. Got it?" The rest of the minions nodded at Deku's order. "Good." He grinned satisfyingly.

"Alright, gang," Deku said, cracking his knuckles. "Let's make this one count!"

With that, they began their approach toward the building, stealthily making their way to what would soon become a pro hero's worst nightmare—a highly inconvenient act of villainy! Hahaha!

---

Deku and his gang of minions quietly entered the building through an open window hatch atop the building and slowly Deku and his gang of minions quietly entered the building through an open window hatch atop the aquarium-like agency. They rappelled down ropes, their feet touching the floor of what appeared to be an old office—dark, silent, and empty, just as Deku had liked.

The room was lined with sleek, aquatic-themed décor, fitting for a pro hero like Gang Orca. But despite its polished look, it seemed oddly lifeless, as if Gang Orca rarely used it himself. Deku glanced around, his green eyes scanning for signs of movement or hidden alarms. So far, so good.

"Alright," Deku whispered, motioning for the minions to follow. "Stay quiet, stay focused."

But as he turned to move forward, he noticed his minions already causing minor chaos. Stuart had found a fish-shaped paperweight on the desk and was making paper airplanes it with Tim, while another minion was gleefully twirling around in the office chair.

Deku pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Guys! Focus! We're not here to redecorate!" His voice was low but sharp, and after a moment of hesitation, the minions finally obliged. Deku used his goggles to make sure there wasn't sensors and cameras in the room as well as making sure there was no one outside the office. He even took a peek through the door's keyhole to be sure.

The plan was simple: find anything valuable, make the steal, and get out—preferably without alerting the entire building. But knowing his minions, he had to mentally prepare himself for things to go south at any moment.

Seeing that the coast was clear, Izuku gathered around his minions and pressed a button on his wrist-watch, projecting a hologram of the building's layout—a 3D version of the blueprint from the USB Giran had given him. They huddled together, examining the map as Deku ran through the way the mission's going to go. They started to devise a strategy—a plan, and a backup plan just in case as well as making sure that every minion knew what their role and job was.

"Here's the dealio..." he whispered, pointing at their location on the hologram. "We're here at the very top of the building. The main room—where all the goods are at—is on the middle floor, the most secure spot. We'll just call it 'the main room' because I don't know what else to call it but it's the room where they store everything important. Anyways, we'll take this route since it appears to be the least guarded, and once we reach the main room, it's a quick in and out. Got it?"

The minions nodded eagerly—though with them, 'eager' was rarely a good sign.

Deku sighed but pressed on. "The escape plan is simple: after we grab the loot, if we can't all escape together or we get separated, you take different exits. Don't all run in the same direction, or we're busted. Once we lose any heroes or law enforcement, we'll regroup at a suitable location." He glanced at each of them, making sure they understood. "I don't want any of you getting caught. It's really important that you don't because the last thing I need is the pro heroes studying you guys."

The minions stared up at him, wide-eyed but clearly only half-listening. Stuart was mimicking Izuku's serious expression while Tim was holding a paper airplane, prepared to launch it.

"Tim!" Deku snapped, his voice a sharp whisper. "Put that down! Did you listen to a word I said?!"

Tim gave a sheepish grin and crumpled the paper airplane into his pocket. "Bido! Uh...Si?" He lied, clearly showing that he hadn't paid attention to what Deku had explained.

Deku sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose again. "Great," he muttered under his breath before focusing back on the task at hand.

"Alright, one more time, for those of you who weren't paying attention," Deku said, shooting a pointed look at Tim. "We're sneaking down to the main room, grabbing whatever valuable goods we can, and getting out—quietly." He emphasized the last word, hoping it would stick.

"The escape plan," Deku repeated, "is that if we get separated or things go south, we all use different exits. Don't all run in the same direction, or we'll get caught! We regroup after we've lost any heroes or law enforcement. Understood?"

The minions nodded again, this time a bit more seriously—except Stuart, who was still trying to perfect his 'serious face' to mirror Deku's. Tim gave a thumbs-up, clearly trying to redeem himself.

Deku gave them all a once-over, his gaze softening slightly. "I mean it, guys. No getting caught. I don't want any of you ending up in a lab somewhere."

With a final glance at the hologram, Deku tucked it away and motioned for his minions to follow. "Alright, so everyone knows what they're doing?" he asked, making sure once more. His minions nodded eagerly.

"Good," Deku said with a more confident smile. "Let's do this."

They quietly exited the office, slipping through the halls like shadows. As they moved, the group split up just as planned. Kevin stayed by Deku's side, while Tim and Stuart went in the opposite direction, ready to create the small distractions that would clear a path for the former two.

Deku's heart raced slightly. Though he'd pulled off heists before, this one had higher stakes—he wasn't just messing with anyone. Gang Orca was a top pro hero, and if things went wrong, there was no telling how fast the situation could escalate. Still, that only fueled his desire to succeed even more. And he really, really hoped that his minions don't cause too much ruckus to mess up the mission like they usually would.

As Kevin and Deku snuck through the building's quiet halls, Tim and Stuart stumbled upon the jackpot—the main control and security room. The room was small but packed with screens showing various parts of the building, along with a handful of guards who were casually watching the monitors, unaware of the looming mischief.

The two minions exchanged a knowing glance, their mischievous grins growing wider as they slowly and deviously rubbed their hands together, preparing to cause absolute chaos! They tiptoed into the room like cartoonish villains, eyes locked on the controls and switches that could likely send the building into mayhem.

---

Meanwhile, as Deku and Kevin moved deeper into the building, a sudden shiver crept up Izuku's spine, causing him to stop in his tracks. He had a strange, sinking feeling—like something ridiculous was happening elsewhere.

Kevin noticed his boss's pause and looked at him quizzically. "Hmm? Deku?" he grunted softly, tilting his head.

Deku waved it off, though still uneasy. "It's nothing," he whispered, though internally, he wasn't so sure. "Let's keep moving. We have some goods to steal." He had to trust that Tim and Stuart wouldn't blow their cover...at least, not yet.

---

Back with Tim and Stuart, they noticed that there were a few guards present in the room with them and that they needed to take them out somehow. As Tim rummaged through his pocket, trying to think of a plan to deal with the guards, Stuart absentmindedly pulled out a banana peel and, with zero fanfare, tossed it over his shoulder. It was an innocent enough gesture—until the banana peel landed directly in front of an oncoming guard just as he was about to take a step.

Slip!

"Ah!" The guard's foot flew out from under him, and with a flailing of arms, he crashed into a control panel. A loud 'thunk' echoed as his head hit the edge of the console, knocking him out cold.

Tim and Stuart blinked in surprise, but before they could react, the control panel the guard had fallen into suddenly came to life. The press of a button sent the large security chair in motion, swiveling at high speed straight into another guard, who was unsuspectingly sipping coffee.

Crash!

The chair slammed into him, spilling hot coffee everywhere and sending him tumbling into a row of filing cabinets, which tipped over with a loud metallic clatter. One by one, the cabinets toppled like dominoes, slamming into the remaining guards and knocking them out cold in the most comical fashion. One guard was flung across the room and landed face-first in a pile of paperwork, while another was pinned against the wall by a filing cabinet.

When the chaos finally subsided, the room was eerily quiet, save for the soft hum of the control panel and the unconscious snoring of the fallen guards. Tim and Stuart had completely cleared out the room...and it was all by accident.

Tim and Stuart stood there, wide-eyed, taking in the scene. They exchanged a glance, grinning at each other. It was ridiculous, sure. But with the minions, nothing is ridiculous.

With the room now completely cleared, Tim and Stuart rubbed their hands together, eyes glimmering with excitement as they turned their attention to the security controls. Time for the next course of action!

---

Back with Kevin and Deku, they had just entered the main room after carefully sneaking through the building and knocking out guards. But the moment they stepped inside, alarms suddenly blared to life, and the entire building descended into chaos.

Tim and Stuart were already causing havoc as soon as they took control of the room. What was supposed to be a subtle distraction—disabling some minor alarms and luring away guards—quickly escalated into total chaos. They recklessly fiddled with the control panels, and within seconds, the building's aquarium systems went haywire.

Large tanks bubbled violently, causing the fish inside to swim frantically. The lights flickered, and the occasional alarm blared overhead, declaring an emergency—though the warnings were ridiculous things like, 'Octopus in distress!' or 'Emergency shark feeding in progress!'

Confused guards scrambled in every direction. "What's happening?!" one shouted, rushing to check the systems. Another ran toward the aquarium hallways, genuinely thinking some aquatic catastrophe was underway.

Deku stood still for a moment, taking in the chaos around him. "Of course," he muttered flatly, rolling his eyes and resisting the urge to facepalm. "I should've known."

"Amee batooay pem batooay prompo, Boss?" Kevin beside him asked.

Deku took a deep breath. "We...move on! Time is of the essence now!" he said through gritted teeth. The mission was far from subtle now, but they'd have to work with the mayhem Tim and Stuart had unleashed.

He motioned for Kevin to follow, and the two of them sprang into action. Deku scanned the room quickly, identifying the most valuable items—the prized statue, rare memorabilia, and important documents. He tossed them into bags with swift efficiency, while Kevin gathered whatever looked remotely valuable.

"Move fast," Deku whispered urgently, already feeling the ticking clock as the chaos outside the main room escalated. Alarms blared, and he could hear footsteps echoing down the hallways as confused guards rushed to figure out the cause of the mess.

Suddenly, Kevin accidentally pulled on a lever, and a secret wall slid open, revealing a hidden hallway lined with shifting laser grids. At the end of the hallway sat a sleek, metallic suitcase. Izuku's brow arched in intrigue. If it's this well-guarded, it must be valuable, he thought. Without hesitation, he made a snap decision—they were going to steal it before the guards arrived.

He took out a device he'd built—a gadget that allowed him to map out the laser grid's pattern and time the movements. Although they were basically now in panic mode, they moved with quick, precise motions, he led the way, weaving through the lasers with Kevin following awkwardly behind. The minion almost tripped once, but Izuku grabbed him by the collar just in time.

And then it hit him. Wait, hold on. Why the hell am I still sneaking around for? The whole building was already in chaos. There was no point in being subtle anymore. With a quiet groan of frustration, Deku abandoned stealth, bolting through the remaining lasers. They reached the suitcase, and as Deku grabbed it from the podium, an AI voice boomed through the hallway, dramatic and exaggerated, clearly mimicking Gang Orca's heroic tone.

"INTRUDER ALERT. YOU HAVE ENTERED A HIGHLY SECURED AREA. THIS IS THE DOMAIN OF GANG ORCA. YOU WILL NOT ESCAPE JUSTICE."

"Deku rolled his eyes as the dramatic AI voice boomed through the hallway, shaking his head at how over-the-top Gang Orca's security system was. Of course, he'd have an AI version of himself yelling threats, Deku thought dryly.

"Why do they always have to be so dramatic?" he muttered under his breath. 'I swear, it's gotta be the All Might effect...' He thought.

Before he could dwell on it further, the ceiling began to open, revealing weapons that quickly locked onto them. They started firing without hesitation.

"We gotta move!" Izuku barked. "Kevin! C'mon!"

Together, they bolted toward the exit, narrowly dodging each shot. The corridor was a chaotic blur of flashing lights, loud blaring alarms, and the thunderous boom of the AI's voice repeating, "INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT! INTRUDER ALERT!"

Deku growled in frustration. "Oh, shut up!" He whipped out his freeze ray, firing a shot at one of the ceiling weapons. The blast of cold encased the gun in a thick layer of ice, rendering it useless.

As they finally made it out of the secret hallway and headed toward the exit, the alarms blared even louder, echoing throughout the entire building. Izuku gritted his teeth, fighting through a horde of guards using his gadgets and inventions—freeze rays, smoke bombs, and taser gloves. Kevin was close behind, helping by...well, causing chaos in his own minion-like way.

Just when they thought they were in the clear, a deep, authoritative voice boomed through the hall.

"Halt! Stop right there!"

Izuku spun around, his heart pounding in his chest. At the end of the hallway stood Gang Orca, towering and intimidating, his muscular form radiating raw power. His black-and-white suit rippled as if his very presence bent the air around him. The hero's red eyes locked onto them with cold resolve.

Izuku's pulse quickened. We can't fight him head-on, not now, he thought, panic rising. Not with the alarms blaring, guards closing in, and Kevin at his side. They were out of their league if it came down to a direct fight.

---

Back with Tim and Stuart, the two were still fiddling with the control panels, causing the building's systems to go haywire. Suddenly, loud banging came from the door as Gang Orca's men began forcing their way in. "AHHHH!!" Tim immediately went into full panic mode, darting around the room at an absurd, comical speed, letting out high-pitched squeals.

But Stuart, much calmer, caught Tim's attention. "Tim! TIM!" Stuart called out, waving his arms. "Looka!" He pointed upward at a vent in the corner of the ceiling—a potential escape route. Tim, still in full panic mode, screeched to a halt and looked up, nodding furiously as the realization hit him. But before they made their exit, they exchanged a mischievous grin. They weren't just going to leave quietly—oh no, they were going to leave in style~! Something their boss, Deku, would definitely approve of.

Stuart pulled out a small circular, transparent device, filled with dark green gas inside. The devious grins on both minions' faces grew wider. Tim giggled as Stuart carefully placed the device by the door, and with one last wink to his partner in crime, they both climbed up into the vent after leaving their little 'surprise.'

Just as they wriggled out of sight, Gang Orca's men finally broke down the door. "Intruders! Surrender now and put your hands up!" one of them bellowed. But to their confusion, the room was completely empty.

Then, out of nowhere, a loud beeping noise echoed through the room. The guards looked down at the source—a strange device on the floor.

"Huh?" one of them said, leaning closer to inspect it.

*Brrrump!*

Suddenly, the device activated, and the entire room was flooded with a thick, noxious cloud of gas. It reeked of a foul, overwhelming smell—fart. The guards recoiled in horror, gagging and stumbling back in exaggerating ways as the room quickly became uninhabitable.

"Eugh! That's gross!" one guard coughed, trying to wave away the green cloud, while others scrambled for the door.

"Grck! Hehe!"
"Pfft! Hahaha!"

In the vent above, Tim and Stuart were already snickering uncontrollably as they made their escape. Stuart gave Tim a thumbs-up, proud of their 'stink-tacular' getaway.

---

Back with Deku and Gang Orca, the tension in the hallway was palpable. The two stood frozen in place, eyes locked in a dangerous standoff. It was like something out of an old Western movie—two cowboys squaring off at high noon, except, in this case, it was a pro hero, a young villain, and...one yellow minion who looked like he had no business being in such a showdown.

Gang Orca's powerful form loomed at the end of the corridor, his dark eyes narrowing as he sized up his opponent. Deku stood his ground, heart racing but forcing himself to keep a cool exterior. He wasn't in the mood for a direct fight, but if push came to shove, he had gadgets, and a few tricks up his sleeve to try and escape since he knew that he had no chance against a high ranking pro hero like Gang Orca.

Next to him, Kevin wasn't exactly helping the situation. The minion was gripping a banana like a gun, holding it out in front of him as if ready to join the showdown.

Gang Orca's gaze briefly flickered to the banana, and his eyebrow raised. "Really?" he said, voice thick with disbelief.

Deku facepalmed internally. Of course, his minion would pick now to be...well, a minion.

"You're not getting out of here," Gang Orca warned, taking a slow, menacing step forward, his imposing presence filling the hallway. "Surrender now."

Deku smirked, though his mind was already working overtime, calculating the best way to get out of this situation. "Yeah...that's not happening," he said, gripping the suitcase tightly in one hand and blaster in the other aiming at the pro hero.

Gang Orca, unfazed, suddenly sighed before speaking up. "Look, kid. I've heard about you. The young, rising, and ambitious quirkless villain, Deku." He started with a calm and reasonable toned that surprised Deku. In fact, how he's acted throughout this whole interaction surprised Deku. Gang Orca was acting a lot less angry than what Izuku had expected.

"Yeah...and?" The young villain asked.

Gang Orca took another step forward, though his posture was more relaxed than aggressive. "And..." he continued, his voice steady, almost conversational, "I don't think you're in this for the same reasons most villains are." He gestured to the mayhem around them—the alarms, the trashed rooms, the unconscious guards. "You're smart. You could do more than petty theft and chaos. So why this?"

Deku raised an eyebrow, not lowering his blaster. "You think this is some kind of phase or something?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his eyes.

Gang Orca remained calm, his powerful frame not betraying an ounce of hostility. "I think you're angry. And I think you're trying to prove something, but to who? Heroes? Society? Yourself? So tell me, kid. What's your endgame? Your goal?"

The young villain froze. This question again. The question that Deku had really begun thinking about. Recently, he realized that he didn't really have a motive, an end goal, for why he does the things that he does. Why was he doing all of this? Sure, he wanted to make a statement, to prove that he didn't need a quirk to be powerful, to stand against a society that had rejected him. But was he really just trying to annoy the heroes? Or was there something more to it?

"I..."

Gang Orca didn't press him, simply watching, waiting for an answer that Deku didn't have. Gang Orca always had a soft spot for children. And as far as he goes, he did not see the young man in front of him as some dangerous upcoming and rising villain, but instead a lonely child who had been hurt and rejected by society.

"I don't know," Deku finally muttered, his voice raw with frustration. "I thought...I thought if I could just prove that I didn't need a quirk to be strong, people would finally see and accept me. That they'd stop treating me like...like I'm nothing!" His grip tightened around the blaster in his hand, his knuckles turning white.

Gang Orca nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving Deku's face. "And you think this is the way to do it? Causing chaos, pulling off heists, putting yourself in danger—what does that really prove?"

Deku clenched his teeth. "I don't know!" he snapped, his voice louder now. "I don't know what I'm doing, okay?! I just...I just wanted to be someone. Someone who mattered!" The words hung in the air, and Deku hated how vulnerable he sounded, how lost.

For a moment, there was silence between them. Gang Orca's expression softened, and he took a step closer, but still kept his distance. "You already matter, kid. But this...this isn't the way to find it. You're smarter than this. Stronger than this." He paused, his voice dropping lower. "But you're not alone in that anger. A lot of people feel it. It's what you do with it that defines you."

Deku's eyes widened. He wasn't expecting this kind of talk from a hero. He wasn't sure what he had expected, really. Maybe some dramatic showdown, or a lecture on why villains always lose. But this? This was different. Gang Orca wasn't talking to him like a villain. Not at all.

Gang Orca's voice became firm again, though not unkind. "You've got potential. You're smart and innovative, Deku. But you're walking a path that's only going to get darker. You want to prove something? Prove that you can rise above this. That you can be more than the anger that's driving you."

Deku stood there, struggling with everything inside him. He didn't know what to say. What to do. He was at a crossroads, and he wasn't sure which way to go. But for the first time in a long time, he felt the weight of his choices pressing down on him.

"What's your choice, Midoriya Izuku?" Gang Orca asked, his calm but serious demeanor unwavering even as his men began to swarm the hallways, their footsteps echoing behind him.

"I..." Izuku faltered once again, genuinely considering Gang Orca's words for a split second. But then, like a cruel flash, the painful and cruel words of his mother echoed in his mind: I wish you were never born!

And just like that, his anger and rage surged to a boiling point in an instant.

"Midori-"

"SHUT UP!!!" he screamed, his voice raw with pain and fury.

With wild desperation, Izuku fired at the aquariums. The glass shattered with a deafening crash, sending torrents of water cascading through the hallway like a tidal wave. The sheer force knocked guards off their feet, sweeping them down the corridor.

"Let's go, Kevin!" Izuku shouted, snatching up the minion. In one swift motion, he fired his grappling hook upward, the line catching onto a sturdy fixture above. With a sharp pull, they were yanked up toward the ceiling.

Water surged beneath them, rising fast, but Deku was faster. He shot them through a ceiling grate, landing them onto the floor above just as the water burst through. They were safe, for now. Below them, chaos unfolded—alarms blaring, guards scrambling, and Gang Orca's men attempting to regain control of the situation.

Deku panted as he helped Kevin to his feet, the minion shaking water off like a soaked dog. "We can't stop now," he muttered, eyes scanning their new surroundings as well as trying to shake off his interaction with Gang Orca. "We're getting out of here." He pressed onto his ear-piece. "Tim! Stuart! Retreat!" He ordered.

Tim and Stuart, who were at the opposite side of the building and already about to parachute off the edge of a window they had broken replied back. "Bedy en pik!" Stuart said. Deku sighed in relief when he heard Stuart's voice through the earpiece, even if the response was typical Minion nonsense. "Good enough," he muttered under his breath.

Tim and Stuart counted down before jumping off the agency building. "Da! Do! Teru! Opala!" Soon enough, they pulled onto their bags and began gleefully gliding through the night with their parachutes that were in the shapes of bananas of course.

"Whoo-hoo!" Tim yelled, spinning in circles as his parachute gently floated downward."Yeah!" Stuart chimed in, pumping his fist in the air as they sailed over the city.

Back with Deku and Kevin, as they continued running away from  the young villain leader pressed onto his ear-piece once again. "Mel! Bob! Get the airship ready now! We're ready to get the hell out of here!" He ordered the rest of his minion gang he put in charge of guarding the airship.

Mel and Bob scrambled into action as soon as they received Deku's command. Mel took control of the cockpit, expertly flipping switches and prepping the airship for takeoff. "Roger pak, Deku!" he replied, barking orders at the other minions lounging around. The minions, who had been playing cards or just goofing off, jumped to their feet at Mel's signal.

Bob, ever cheerful, grabbed the intercom and announced, "Vite vite, banana bazoook!" His little declaration made the others cheer excitedly as they all hurried to their positions, preparing for liftoff.

The engines of the airship roared to life as the minions worked quickly. Within moments, the airship hovered beside the agency building, positioning itself for the pickup.

Deku and Kevin, sprinting through the now-emptied hallway, made their way toward the opening on the far side. "There it is," Deku muttered under his breath as the airship came into view just in time. Without hesitation, he yanked Kevin up with him, and with expert precision, they made their jump, landing safely on the deck of the airship as it hovered nearby.

Just as they caught their breath, Tim and Stuart could be seen parachuting down toward the ship with their banana-shaped parachutes. "Wheeeee!" echoed in the night as the two minions floated down in their usual chaotic style. The airship skillfully scooped them up, too, right before they would've missed their landing, thanks to Mel and Bob's quick reflexes at the controls.

However, just before fleeing the scene, Izuku grinned to himself and pressed a button on his wrist.

*BOOM!*
*KABOOM!*

Explosions ripped through the building behind them, lighting up the night sky. Sections of the agency exploded one after another in a chain reaction, shaking the very foundations. While sneaking around earlier, Izuku had secretly planted mini bombs across key hallways, rooms, and exits. It was his parting gift to the heroes and agents left inside—a little 'surprise' he had planned meticulously.

Now, he was starting to understand why Bakugou loved his quirk so much. Explosions were...fun.

With that, they finally escaped with their...more or less successful heist. The mission had been chaotic—far from the precise, calculated plan he'd hoped for. His eyes landed on the suitcase sitting beside him. 'It didn't go exactly as I planned,' he thought, 'but at least I managed to steal something important.'

As his minions cheered and danced around the airship, Izuku found himself sitting apart from the chaos as he continued piloting the ship throughout the night sky. The stolen suitcase lay beside him, a symbol of his victory, but the weight of it felt heavier than he expected. He clenched his fists, trying to push down the unease that had settled in his chest.

The interaction with Gang Orca replayed in his mind over and over—the calm way the pro hero had spoken to him, not as a villain to be defeated, but as someone who was lost, searching for something. And Gang Orca's question still echoed in his thoughts: What's your endgame?

Izuku's eyes narrowed as he leaned back, trying to shake the thoughts. He did have an endgame, didn't he? He wanted to be accepted. He wanted to show the world that he didn't need a quirk to be powerful, to make a statement against a society that had cast him aside and rejected him. But why did Gang Orca's words bother him so much? Why did they make him question everything?

He had a lot to think about.

---

All Might had a lot to think about.

He had been summoned by his close friend, detective Naomasa Tsukauchi, to the police station. Tsukauchi had finally decided to reach out for his help, and they were set to discuss the rising young quirkless villain known as Deku—who had dominated the headlines for the past couple of months.

Before all of this, he had thought that the boy looked familiar, wondering where had he seen the boy before. Then after more and more headlines came in, All Might finally pieced it together and realized where he had recognized the boy. He discovered that he was the same young boy who had asked him if he could be a hero without a quirk. And a more dawning revelation for him was that he was also the same boy whom he shared information about his weakness with.

Toshinori wanted to slap himself in the face for his foolishness, mentally berating himself for sharing such sensitive information with a perfect stranger, especially a young boy. How could I have been so reckless? Now, that same boy was wreaking havoc, seemingly relishing his new life as a villain. The situation couldn't have been any worse.

As he walked through the station, his mind raced with guilt and regret. What have I done? He thought bitterly to himself. It was a disappointing realization: he had failed the boy who once admired him and he was now using his talented innovative mind to aspire to be a villain instead. Toshinori sighed in dismay. Some inspiring hero he was was...

As he approached the designated meeting room, All Might couldn’t shake the weight of his responsibilities. What could he do? Could he reach Izuku before he was completely consumed by the darkness he was embracing? Or had he already lost him for good? Would Midoriya even want to be saved?

Those were the questions he would have to answer quick.

As All Might stepped into the room, the familiar scent of coffee and paper filled the air. Tsukauchi sat at the table, his face etched with the exhaustion of someone chasing an elusive target for far too long. “Thanks for coming, All Might,” he greeted, though there was no warmth in his tone—just the weariness of a man who had seen too much. “We need your help.” Tsukauchi said, always cutting to the chase.

All Might nodded, determination igniting within him. "What do you need me to do?" he asked, ready to help however way he can.

Tsukauchi sighed as he began to give the Symbol of Peace a quick rundown about what they had been trying to do with the case about Deku. “For the past few months, Deku, A.K.A, Izuku Midoriya has been involved in multiple high-profile heists. He’s been outsmarting heroes left and right, and he’s got some kind of team of these small...yellow...henchmen working for him. The media's dubbing him names along the lines of 'The Quirkless Villain,' or 'Young Mastermind', but this is more than just a few bank robberies. His pattern is erratic and unpredictable, his methods are often bizarre and his motives are still unknown. And we can’t ignore how effective he’s become.”

The detective handed All Might a file, thick with reports and photos. "We've been tracking his movements, trying to get ahead of him, but he’s always one step ahead. Even when we think we've got him, he somehow manages to escape. It's...quite frustrating." Tsukauchi explained, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

All Might suddenly sighed heavily. “There’s something you should know, Tsukauchi. Something I haven’t told anyone yet,” he began, his voice somber.

Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly in interest. "Oh, really? What is it?" he asked, sensing that this was more than just another lead.

All Might clasped his hands together, staring down at them as if the weight of what he was about to say was physically pressing down on him. "A couple of moths ago, I had an encounter with a boy. He was young, quirkless, and...full of hope. He asked me if he could be a hero, even without a quirk." His voice softened as he remembered that fateful meeting. "I...told him no, Tsukauchi. I told him it wasn’t possible and offered other ways that he could help. I crushed that boy’s dream." He paused, letting the guilt settle in the room like a thick fog. "That boy was...young Midoriya, or rather, now knows as Deku."

Tsukauchi's eyes widened in surprise. "You...you knew him before all of this? Before he became Deku?"

All Might nodded, his expression pained. "I didn’t realize it at first, but the more I saw the reports, the more I recognized him. His face, his mannerisms—it all clicked. I made a mistake back then. A mistake I think might have led him down this path."

The detective’s expression softened with understanding. “You couldn’t have known what would happen, All Might. You were honest with him, and you thought you were doing what was best.”

“But was it the best, though?” All Might asked, his voice strained with regret. “What if I had told him something different? What if I had offered him hope instead of shutting him down? Maybe he wouldn’t be...this.” He gestured toward the file, the weight of his words hanging in the air.

Tsukauchi leaned back, considering All Might’s words carefully. “It’s hard to say what might have happened, but you shouldn't be too hard on yourself. You did what you thought was the right thing to do and there might still be a chance to make this right." The detective tried to offer some optimism. "And, also, thanks for your input. We might just be able to understand him better and you might still be able to talk some sense into the boy."

“That’s not...the only thing I told him.”

“Hm?” Tsukauchi raised a brow, his curiosity piqued. There's more?

All Might’s shoulders slumped, and he shrank back, looking much smaller than usual. “I...uh...I also made the mistake of telling him about...my other form...and my...weakness.” He said with a nervous chuckle.

"..."

The detective just stared at him for a moment, processing the gravity of that admission. "...Toshi..." Tsukauchi exhaled slowly, a mix of disappointment and disbelief clear in his voice, like a parent who had seen the same mistake made a hundred times.

All Might lowered his head in shame. "I know. I'm sorry."

Tsukauchi sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration. "I suppose this makes our priority to capture Deku even more greater..." He said. They needed to capture Deku before he spreads that crucial information about All Might's weakness to the wrong ears.

All Might nodded, but the smile he offered wasn’t the usual bright, reassuring grin he was known for. It was smaller, more somber, yet determined. "Don't worry, Tsukauchi-kun," he said, voice steady with resolve. "We'll stop him. I owe it to him...and to everyone." His eyes hardened with purpose. He wasn’t just fighting to capture Deku—he was fighting to save him, to atone for the mistakes that led the boy down this path. He then said his iconic catchphrase, although it was more subdued this time, it felt just as impactful as usual. 

"Because, I AM HERE!"

Chapter Text

It was late at night back at their base. The usual chatter and chaotic energy of the minions had quieted down, the little yellow creatures fast asleep after another successful mission. Sitting alone at the table, Izuku's fingers fidgeted with the latch of the case that he stole from Gang Orca's agency the other night. His mind was racing as the lone light shuns down on him within the small, empty room that was cluttered in dust and rubbish. It didn't seem...ethical for what would be considered an office. But, he'll have to make due with this for the time being until he can come up as a more prominent villain with a sound goal.

A goal...

Izuku suddenly remembers the conversation he had with Gang Orca himself. It actually made the young villain reflect and wonder, something he'd been trying his best to avoid until now. He had gone down this path because hero society had rejected him. Because his mother rejected him. So he'd tried to be the exact opposite of a hero—a villain, since he felt it was his only option. But now that he's a villain, the question is...now what? What exactly is he working toward? Or trying to prove?

Destroy hero society? Tempting, but impossible. Even with his army of minions.

Work with other villains and join their cause? Deku has come to know that he prefers to work alone with his minions. Other third parties would either be incompetent, useless (since he already has his minions), or untrustworthy.

Form a quirkless revolution to get back at the society that looked down on them so much?...Maybe.

Kill pro heroes? Possible, but why?

Countless more questions began to fill his head.

Should he even have a goal?

Does he even need one?

Should he be a villain without a goal?

Izuku exasperated as he was deeply contemplating about what kind of person he wants to be. He does have a desire to be a villain, yet he didn't have a concrete aim. He didn't want to be just another run-of-the-mill criminal who would get caught and forgotten in time. And The fact that all he's done these past few months was rob banks, steal valuables, fight pro heroes, and cause meaningless violence didn't help his case. Izuku realized that has all this talent in inventing and that's what he was doing it with?

Izuku slumped back on his chair. 'Why can't life just be simple? All I ever wanted was to be accepted.' He thought dejectedly. But at least he can find some solace in knowing that the minions had accepted him without any hesitation, as well as villain society and the Bank of Evil. Or at least, he thinks they do...right?

He shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'There I go overthinking again.' He thought. He's gone this far, it's too late to turn back now. Izuku took a deep breath, gathering his focus as he turned his attention back to the stolen case.

"What's inside?" he muttered under his breath, feeling a mix of curiosity and caution. Carefully, he undid the latches and opened the case, hoping its contents would reveal something worthwhile.

Inside were...documents?

No...not just any documents, he thought. They wouldn't have hidden it so securely if that were the case.

Izuku spread the papers out on his table, rifling through each one. The small, cramped office around him was silent as he scanned the first few pages. He read over several sheets before—

"What?!" Izuku exclaimed, his voice echoing in disbelief.

The carefully protected documents turned out to be the permits and...detailed instructions on how to properly care for a pet shark. Seriously?

Izuku's eye twitched, his frustration building as he slammed his fist down on the table. "Argh! All that trouble...for this?!"

Well, I suppose I did intend that I was going to steal something petty at first, but...oh, well, he thought, slumping over his desk in disappointment. Still, he'd hoped for more than pet shark permits. 

As he was sulking, his phone suddenly buzzed. Checking up his phone, he saw a simple message from Giran who sent him the co-ordinates of a location. Apparently he wanted to meet with Izuku once again for reasons unknown.

Just then, his phone buzzed. Izuku picked it up, noticing a message from Giran: coordinates for a new location, and a quick note asking to meet. There was no explanation, just the bare address.

Izuku couldn't help but narrow his eyes in suspicion at the message. That unsettling encounter with Dr. Garaki at the hospital, paired with the ominous feeling he'd had retrieving the USB from Giran, replayed in his mind.  Everything about it all just screamed 'shady', making even Izuku feel like he had stumbled upon something that he shouldn't have. Giving him the feeling that his every move was being watched, especially back at that hospital errand.

Izuku's gaze sharpened as an idea took root—a risky one, but worth a shot. Maybe he can use this opportunity to finally cut ties with Giran once and for all in this meeting. Now that he could get his resources from the Bank of Evil, he saw that he had no use to still be prattling around with Giran. He had been useful for connections, sure, but there was always a catch, a feeling that Izuku was a pawn in someone else's game. If he could sever the connection cleanly, he'd be free to control his own path and keep his operations under the radar—at least a bit more than he was now.

Of course, it wouldn't be as simple as telling Giran to go away. No one in this world let go of allies without a fight. But if he played it right, he could make Giran believe it was better to part ways now, to 'amicably' end things while they were both ahead. He just needed to make it clear he wouldn't be dragged into Giran's—or anyone else's—shady agendas.

He got up from his seat and began to get prepared. If things go south, he'd have his weapons ready at hand. Sure, even as a villain, he'd rather not go around killing people unless he had no other choice. Plus, he hated getting his clean outfit stained in blood. He's actually really grown to like how he looks.

Guess I'm not sleeping tonight, Izuku thought with a resigned sigh as he left his cluttered office, closing the door softly behind him. As he moved down the dim hallway, he spotted a few minions still wide awake, buzzing with their typical nocturnal energy. He called them over with a wave, a wry smile forming on his face. "Alright, team," he muttered to the yellow creatures, "we've got one more mission tonight! Let's get ready."

---

Later that night, Izuku traveled via his airship and soon got to the location that Giran had told him to meet which was on top of an empty building roof. Izuku jumped off his ship and landed, the wind whipped around Izuku as he straightened up, casting a wary glance over the barren rooftop. Of course, he thought with a twinge of irritation. Lead me to the middle of nowhere, and he's not even here. His eyes scanned the shadows cast by dim rooftop lights, his senses on high alert for any sign of movement.

Izuku kept one hand near his freeze ray, ready for a quick getaway if things went south. As he scanned the empty rooftop, a familiar voice cut through the silence. "Sorry I'm late, kid. Had some last-minute business."

Startled, Izuku whipped out his freeze ray, pointing it straight at Giran, who was casually leaning against the door leading up to the roof. The man grinned, hands raised in mock surrender. "Whoa there, no need to get all jumpy."

"Wha-? How did you-?" Izuku stuttered. He was completely taken aback by Giran's sudden appearance. He didn't hear the door to the roof open nor did he see him being the first one to arrive here, so how...?

Giran interrupted by waving off the question with a lazy hand. "Details, details. Not important." He took a few steps forward, a relaxed smirk still plastered on his face. "What is important is that I wanted a little chat. So how about you lower that thing?"

Izuku narrowed his eyes in suspicion and lowered his weapon but not putting it back in his holster. "What do you want, Giran?" He asked, getting straight to the point. "I do not like being snuck up on."

Giran smirked, lowering his hands and stepping out from the shadowed doorway. He took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling smoke into the chilly night air. "Right to business, huh? Can't say I'm surprised."

Izuku's grip on his freeze ray didn't loosen. If anything, his stance grew more tense as Giran continued. "I wanted to check in on how things have been running, kid. You've been making waves, and it seems like you're starting to build a name for yourself," he said, giving Izuku a look. "Not the type to lay low for long, are ya?"

"Is that all?" Izuku asked coldly, his patience wearing thin. The last thing he needed was small talk with someone like Giran. He'd come here with a purpose, to cut ties, and if Giran had nothing substantial to say, he was done wasting time.

"Easy, easy," Giran chuckled, unfazed. "The truth is that, some of my other clients have seen your handiwork and are impressed. They want to meet with you personally." He explained, getting a little more serious.

Izuku raised a surprised brow. "Really?"

Giran nodded, his smirk growing as he leaned against the railing. "Yeah, you've got people's attention. Not just the usual crooks and thugs either—real players, powerful types. They think a kid with guts, brains, and a few...unique friends might be worth investing in." He flicked the ashes from his cigarette, eyeing Izuku thoughtfully. "And if you're aiming to move up, this could be your golden ticket."

Izuku's mind whirred at the prospect. He'd been making strides on his own terms, working with the minions, causing the kind of chaos that left a mark. But he'd never intended to answer to anyone else, let alone other high-ranking villains.

"I don't answer to anyone, Giran," he replied, keeping his tone flat, though a spark of intrigue flickered beneath the surface.

Giran nodded, keeping his easygoing demeanor as he took another drag from his cigarette. "Look, I get it. You've got your own thing going, and you don't want anyone's leash on you. But these clients? They're different. They respect what you're building. They just want a conversation, not a contract."

Izuku's eyes narrowed as he considered Giran's words, his grip loosening slightly but his guard still up. "Why me?" he asked skeptically. "There's a whole society of villains out there—why would they care about someone new on the scene?"

Giran's smirk returned. "Because you're shaking things up in ways they haven't seen before. The way you've been going about your heists, the plans you pull together with those minions of yours? Let's just say it's turning heads. They see potential."

Izuku's eyes narrowed as he hesitated, his mind spinning with the idea. He hated the thought of being indebted to anyone, but maybe...just one more favor wouldn't hurt. "Fine. I'll hear them out," he said, the reluctance in his voice unmistakable. "But I'm not making any promises. If I don't like what I hear, I'm gone."

Giran's expression brightened, a look of satisfaction crossing his face. "Fair enough, kid. That's all they're asking for—a fair shake." He reached out, offering a handshake, which Izuku pointedly ignored.

Izuku turned back toward his airship, already preparing his grappling hook. "Fine. We'll set up the meeting soon. Call me when you're ready."

But before he could launch, Giran chuckled, drawing Izuku's attention once more. "Actually," Giran said, his tone slipping into a low drawl, "they're ready now."

Izuku's brow shot up in surprise. "What? Now?" He asked, confused.  

Giran nodded, raising a finger. "Yup." With a snap, a swirling purple portal materialized beside him, the colors shifting ominously. "They're eager to meet you." He gestured toward the portal. "After you."

Izuku took a few steps back in surprise. He hadn't agreed to meet right now, and the sudden appearance of this portal set off all kinds of alarms. But Giran was watching him with that smug grin, clearly aware of the gamble he'd forced Izuku into. His grip tightened on his freeze ray again, instincts on high alert as he scrutinized Giran. "You didn't think to mention this earlier?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

"I knew that you would the more...difficult one to persuade." Giran shrugged with a slight smirk. "Besides, I didn't think it'd be a problem. They like to make...dramatic entrances."

Izuku sighed after a contemplative, casting a quick glance up to his airship, still hovering as his backup plan. "Fine," he muttered, masking his hesitation. "But if this is some kind of trap, you're going to regret it." He warned Giran with a glare who remained unfazed. "Trust me, kid. If there's anyone who can handle what's on the other side, it's you. Besides, this is exactly where you need to be."

Izuku couldn't help but think, I doubt that. Without another word, he stepped forward and finally entered the dark purple portal.

The moment he re-emerged, Izuku was surprised to find himself in a familiar, dimly lit bar—the same one where he'd received the USB from Giran the other day.

Izuku scanned the room. Two figures stood by the bar. One was a tall, ominous-looking figure made of swirling purple mist, who appeared to be the bartender. Sitting at the table in front of him is  a young, crusty man with...hands all over him? Even for Izuku, it was a rather...peculiar sight. At least, he had flair. Even if all that he wore was all black.

The man with the hand-mask turned to face him, his gaze sharp and assessing. "So," he drawled, his voice carrying a hint of malice, "you're the quirkless villain kid that everyone's been talking about."

"...Who are you?"

The man tilted his head, a crooked smile slipping out from beneath the hand covering his face. "Names don't matter much here," he replied. "But since you asked so nicely..." He said in slight displeasure as he lifted his chin slightly. "You can call me Shigaraki."

Izuku silently examined the man all over, trying to find out if there was some kind of motive. "...Alright, Shigaraki. Why did you want to meet with me?" Izuku asked, trying to be sound ethical at least and roll with the flow for now.

Shigaraki's smile twisted into something darker as he continued, leaning in closer. "You and I, Midoriya...we're more alike than you realize. I've been keeping an eye on you, watching the mayhem you leave behind. You're good at causing chaos, at making society nervous—just like me."

Izuku bristled. The comparison didn't sit well with him; the idea of being lumped in with Shigaraki, especially after only just figuring out what he wanted, irritated him for some reason. But he kept quiet, watching Shigaraki's unsettling gaze and listening as he continued.

"So why work alone?" Shigaraki pressed, his voice a mix of persuasion and demand. "With your inventing talent, my...resources, we could take down heroes, shake society to its core. We'd be unstoppable."

Izuku's lips pressed into a thin line. "Not interested," he replied flatly, stepping back. "I don't need your help, and I'm not here to make friends."

Shigaraki's face twisted with irritation. "Not interested?" he echoed, his voice laced with bitterness as his hand trembled, fingers twitching as if eager to reach for Izuku. "You think you can just walk away from this? Do you even understand what you're turning down?"

"Yes." Izuku answered sharply. "Why would I want to join you?" he followed up, his voice laced with defiance. Shigaraki's face twisted, and he slammed his hand down on the table, voice rising. "What? Do you think you're too good for this? For us?!"

Izuku was moved his hand instinctively toward his freeze ray while Shigaraki's fingers twitched as he scratched his neck, fighting the urge to not lunge at Izuku. Suddenly, the misty bartender spoke up, his calm voice cutting through the tension. "Tomura, patience," he said, then turned his gaze to Izuku. "Forgive his temper. He's...passionate about our cause."

"...I can tell." Izuku replied as he stared hardly at Shigaraki. 'If there even is a cause.' He couldn't help but think. After a moment of tense silence, it was Giran who decided to speak up, his composure as casual as ever. "Look, kid, I get it. You don't trust anyone, especially not after seeing how hero society chewed you up and spat you out. Shigaraki here has, let's say, an unconventional style. But you can't deny you two have common interests." He glanced between the two young men, gauging their reactions. "Heroes, society—all those things you've both had...issues with."

Izuku's eyes narrowed, clearly unconvinced. "And you think that's reason enough to work together? Just because we both like 'causing trouble' and hate hero society?"

Shigaraki let out an impatient growl, but Kurogiri quickly stepped in. "What Giran is saying, Midoriya," Kurogiri continued smoothly, "is that you might find some benefit in our...network. Imagine having resources—villains who know how to stay out of sight, contacts in every city, funding."

'Which I already have.' Izuku thought.

"What do ya say, kid?" Giran asked as everyone all stared intensely at Izuku, awaiting for his response. After an anticipating silence, Izuku finally answered. "No."

The room fell into a heavy silence, Shigaraki's face contorting with irritation. "No?" he spat, his voice thick with disbelief. His fingers twitched, and he nearly lunged forward, barely restrained by Kurogiri's warning gaze at him.

Izuku's expression didn't falter. "That's right. No. I like handling things my way. And to make things more clear on why I will not be joining you: I don't trust you." He outright admitted with an intense gaze.

It was at this point, Shigaraki finally had enough. "Argh! I've had enough of that arrogant attitude of yours!" He snapped. "Thinking that you're the shit! Who the hell do you think you are?!"

Izuku's tone was sharp, unfazed. "Someone who doesn't trust you," he replied coolly, his hand tightening on his freeze ray.

"Arrrgh!" With a furious growl, Shigaraki lunged, his hand outstretched. Izuku reacted instantly, raising his freeze ray, both of them preparing to strike—but Kurogiri intervened, swirling portals redirecting their hands away from each other's path.

"Enough, both of you," Kurogiri said firmly, his calm presence cutting through the tension.

As things soon came to a somewhat calm atmosphere, Shigaraki spoke once again. He glared daggers at Izuku, irritation was palpable. "Fine," he growled, voice laced with venom. "If you're not going to join us, I'll give you an ultimatum, Deku." He spat the name out as if it were poison. Izuku's eyes narrowed, his posture rigid as he held Shigaraki's gaze.

"Join me or..." Shigaraki demonstrated what would happen if Izuku would not join them by disintegrating a cup using his quirk.

"Ah, so the classic ol' 'join me or die', huh?" Izuku's tone was flat, though a hint of amusement glinted in his eyes. "I've heard that one before," he mused, his dry smirk betraying how little the threat impressed him. He'd seen this ultimatum played out countless times in movies and stuff, but seeing it play out in real life was almost amusing had it not be for the tension in the room.

Shigaraki's gaze narrowed. "You find something funny about this?"

"Only that it's pretty unoriginal," Izuku replied, eyes steady and unbothered.

"Tch!" Shigaraki scowled, clearly getting even more annoyed by Deku's attitude by the minute. Suddenly, a sinister grin formed underneath his hand-mask. "Fine. If you won't join us..." He trailed off, stepping aside as the small television behind him flickered on. The screen revealed one of Izuku's minions, bound and gagged, struggling against the ropes. "Maybe one of your...minions would do?"

Izuku's eyes widen in surprise, a flash of alarm cutting through his defiance. His mind raced. How had they managed to kidnap one of his minions without him knowing? Then it hit him—his encounter with Dr. Garaki. That hospital errand had felt wrong from the start. So, Garaki had likely been working with these guys all along, exploiting the perfect moment to capture one of his minions right under Izuku's nose. Izuku took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "Alright," he said slowly as he glared coldly as Shigaraki, his posture cautious and guarded.

"...What do you want?"

Behind his mask, Shigaraki couldn't help but raise an amused brow seeing how quickly Izuku folded. "I didn't know you cared about these little guys so much." He mocked. "Usually other villains treat their underlings like trash."

Izuku's glare only hardened, his voice steely. "Well, I'm not 'other villains'."

The room fell silent as the two sized each other up, the tension thick enough to cut. Izuku held his ground, refusing to give Shigaraki the satisfaction of seeing him waver any further. Finally, Shigaraki crossed his arms and finally spoke up. "Alright, since I can't exactly force you to join us," He said, crossing his arms, "how about we make a little trade."

Izuku raised a brow, skeptical. "A trade?"

Shigaraki nodded, leaning forward. "You know All Might, don't you?"

Izuku couldn't help but scowl, feeling displeasure at the sudden mention of his former idol. "Everyone does. Why?" he demanded, his tone sharp. He could feel that this 'trade' was shaping up more like a ransom.

Shigaraki's dry lips twisted into a smirk. "Simple," he said, his voice almost casual. "If you can tell me All Might's weakness, and I'll let your minion go."

Izuku blinked, genuinely taken aback by the sheer absurdity of the situation. Shigaraki's offer hung in the air, heavy with expectation. A memory flashed through Izuku's mind, vivid and raw: his encounter with All Might that he could never forget. The one that had shattered his dreams of heroism, along with All Might's bluntly shared weakness.

Izuku wanted to laugh. Truly laugh like some sort of cheesy cartoon villain at this moment. The irony was perfect—he knew All Might's Achilles' heel in excruciating detail. And the funny thing is? He's still not going to tell them! Not out of any lingering loyalty he might have for All Might, but simply because he couldn't stand the thought of giving Shigaraki the satisfaction.

Still, his expression remained composed, carefully masking the internal amusement. These villains can try anything, but Izuku knows that his minions can't die. But that doesn't mean that they can't be experimented on, which is why he's also worried.

"So?" Shigaraki's tone was impatient, his fingers flexing as if ready to seize control of the situation by force.

There was a moment of contemplating silence before Izuku finally answered. "How should I know what his weakness is? You know better as anyone else that All Might has no true weakness, unless you count age." He lied as he tilted his head thoughtfully, feigning consideration. "And even if I knew, why would I waste valuable information on you, of all people?"

Shigaraki's scowl deepened, his fingers twitching with barely contained rage. "You really don't get it, do you?" he sneered, voice dropping to a dangerous edge. "I'm giving you an opportunity here, and you're throwing it away over some fake hero worship."

Izuku shrugged, his expression unchanging. "If All Might really had no weakness, then why would you need me to find one?" he replied coolly, keeping his gaze locked on Shigaraki's. "You clearly want him gone as much as I do, but I'm not about to just hand you my hard-earned intel."

Shigaraki's glare hardened at the young villain. Even if Izuku couldn't fully see his face through his hand-mask, he could feel Shigaraki's glare boring into him, but he remained undeterred. "You really don't care what we'll do to your minion? I thought you said that you weren't like other villains." Shigaraki mocked.

Izuku shrugged again. "I'm not." His tone was casual, but his mind was focused on keeping the situation in his control as well as figuring out a plan on how to rescue his minion. Shigaraki only clenched his jaw, fists trembling. "Fine," he spat, voice darkening. "You want to keep playing the solo act? Don't come crying to us when it all blows up in your face."

The air between them crackled with tension, Izuku's defiance shining through the uncertainty. Shigaraki can threaten him all he wants, but Izuku will save his minion without giving in to their demands. soon enough, Shigaraki finally had it. "Kurogiri. Get him the hell out of here," he ordered, his voice low and furious as he concluded the meeting. Their recruitment process was not a success.

Kurogiri nodded, his calm demeanor contrasting sharply with Shigaraki's fury. A swirling portal opened behind Izuku. He watched as Izuku stepped through the portal, leaving the bar's atmosphere thick with tension. The swirling mist from the portal dissipated, and an awkward silence settled in the room.

"Well, that could've gone better," Giran commented awkwardly as he watched Shigaraki cross his arms and seethed with irritation. Kurogiri remained unfazed, his expression as composed as ever. "Patience, Tomura. This is merely a setback. We'll find another way to draw him in."

"Tch!" Shigaraki scoffed as he ordered for another drink in attempt to calm himself down. His fingers twitched restlessly, the air around him charged with discontent. "He thinks he's the shit and can just walk away. I'll show him what happens when he refuses to play ball."

As he seethed, the television screen behind him flickered on, catching his attention. This time, the words No Sound appeared in bold across the screen. Shigaraki's anger momentarily faltered, and he glanced up, recognizing the sign of an incoming transmission. A familiar voice, calm yet heavy with authority, came over the speakers, despite the image remaining blank. "Patience, Tomura," the voice advised, each word carrying a subtle, unspoken reprimand. "This is only a minor setback. If this boy refuses to join us, we will simply find other ways to make him...cooperative."

---

Izuku gazed up at his Razor Crest-esque airship that was still hovering above the rooftop, its engines humming softly against the night sky. Izuku assumed that his current crew of minions might've set it on autopilot since he saw no one at the cockpit. Reaching for his communicator, he connected with the minion he'd put in charge.

"Hey, Paul! Open the hatch. I'm coming up," Izuku ordered through his communicator. Moments later, the side hatch of the airship lowered with a soft whirr, and Izuku used his grappling hook to pull himself inside. His squad of minions wasn't causing the usual ruckus. Instead, they were sprawled across the floor, calmly playing cards, settling rock-paper-scissors matches, and munching on their beloved bananas. Izuku was surprised since they're usually a lot more chaotic.

Paul, the minion left in charge, looked up mid-bite, blinking in surprise before breaking into a grin. "Ah, boss! To're bok!" he greeted, hopping up excitedly. "Amee deep pik go?" he asked, his tone curious, as he gestured a question about how the meeting went with Giran and his clients.

Izuku gave a sheepish half-smile as he nervously chuckled. "Let's just say they weren't exactly my type," he replied dryly. Paul and the others exchanged curious glances, some of them muttering to each other as if trying to piece together what went down.

"But don't worry about them," Izuku added, his expression hardening. "We've got more important things to handle. One of our own was captured, and it's time to get him back." The minions perked up immediately, tossing their cards and snacks aside, the usual chaotic energy returning in full force.

As Izuku approached the cockpit, he replayed the events in his mind, piecing together the clues leading to the scene of the crime: Jakku Hospital. The last time he'd been there, he'd had a strange feeling about Dr. Garaki's behavior—the way the doctor seemed overly attentive and his overall shady vibe that he gave off. Now it all made sense: Garaki had used that time to get close enough to capture one of his minion.

With a few clicks on his controls, he set his airship on course for Jakku hospital and with that, they blasted away into the night sky. Turning to his minions, who'd assembled with their usual energy, Izuku nodded firmly. "Don't worry, guys. We're getting him back," he said, his voice steely. "No one gets left behind." He declared with conviction.

And Izuku meant those words. Despite Shigaraki's attempt to rattle him, Izuku genuinely cared about his minions. How could he not? They had accepted him without hesitation since the beginning and had been nothing but loyal to him ever since. They were his crew, his only allies in a world that hadn't given him much. And when Shigaraki revealed he'd taken one of them, Izuku had felt a lot more angry than he expected. But thankfully, Shigaraki seemed to be inexperienced as he already wasted his trump card by telling Izuku about his kidnapped minion.

Yet, as much as he hated to admit it, Shigaraki had been right about one thing: in some ways, they weren't so different. They were both young, navigating a world of villainy that could easily chew them up. And both of them had left a trail of chaos and destruction, a list of enemies and allies made, with no clear purpose beyond survival.

As he set the airship to autopilot, Izuku leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a moment to close his eyes and breathe. Might as well savor it as much as he can because it seems like he really was getting no sleep tonight.

Izuku let out a weary sigh as he sank into his chair, hoping for just a few minutes of rest. But barely ten minutes had passed before the cockpit's alert system pinged, flashing an unexpected notification: Unidentified object trailing at close range. His eyes snapped open, a scowl crossing his face as he glanced at the radar.

'Well, that was the most eventful ten minutes of sleep of my life,' he thought sarcastically as he grumbled awake. He scanned the display, and soon enough, he caught sight of the trailing figure hidden in the clouds, red wings spread wide in the moonlight. Izuku recognized who it was.

The winged hero, Hawks.

Though Hawks was skilled at maintaining stealth in the air, the ship's sensors had picked up his presence. Izuku straightened, his mind racing through options as he watched Hawks following from a safe distance through the airship's cameras. With that, he began to pick up the speed.

Just when he thought that he'd lost him, Izuku comically shrieked in surprise as he saw Hawks' face appeared right beside the cockpit window, keeping perfect pace with the airship. "So," Hawks spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're the kid that's been causing quite the stir recently."

Izuku's pulse quickened, but he kept his expression neutral, working to hide any flicker of alarm. "And you're the pro who seems a little too interested in my business." He fired back with a glare, his voice deliberately defiant.

Hawks chuckled, though his golden eyes were sharp, assessing. "What can I say? I keep an eye out for...troublemakers. Although, I'm curious," he continued, his tone light but probing, "where a kid like you is heading all alone, in the dead of night, in a ship, of all things. Are you even capable or old enough to pilot it?" He teased.

"Tch!" Izuku's glare hardened as he scoffed. He wasted no time and pulled his ship back and began firing at the winged hero. Hawks' grin only widened as the blaster fire zipped past him, his movements quick and fluid. He rolled to one side, dodging the blasts with ease, his wings slicing through the air in smooth, practiced strokes. Despite the fire raining down around him, he managed to keep his tone teasing.

"Oh, so we're skipping the introductions?" he called, effortlessly weaving between the shots. "What, no 'Hi, I'm Deku, the hotshot villain'? Or maybe, 'Sorry, Hawks, but I don't have time to play nice'?"

Izuku's scowl deepened as he kept up the barrage, his jaw clenched. "Shut up and stay still!"

But Hawks was relentless, swooping in close to the ship only to dart away at the last second, avoiding every shot with maddening precision. "I'll admit," he said, the amusement fading just a bit from his voice, "you've got some impressive tech here, I gotta say. But do you even know how to use it? Or are you just playing pretend?" He continued to talk to Deku as if he were some kind of toddler.

Izuku bristled, fingers clenching on the controls as he recalibrated his aim, trying to predict Hawks' moves. Just as he thought he had him, Hawks pulled a sharp dive, then shot up beside the cockpit window, smirking through the glass. "Hey, buddy." He said cheerfully, clearly enjoying messing with the young villain.

Izuku growled in annoyance at Hawks' attitude as he quickly maneuvered his airship frantically to get the winged hero off his windshield. His maneuvers did cause his minions to fling all over the airship, one of them even trying to hold in their vomit from being shaken in the air so much. Although Jim, Ryan and Oscar were determined to finish their game of UNO as they remained locked in their game, even as the airship moved around erratically.

As Izuku continued to unleash blasts, Hawks dodged each one with an effortless grace, his wings folding and flaring with each dodge. "You know," Hawks called out as he zipped past the cockpit, "I gotta ask—why waste all this talent, all these fancy gadgets, on petty villain stuff? What's your grand plan here?"

Izuku gritted his teeth, firing another round. "You wouldn't understand," he muttered, irritation growing as Hawks continued to swoop around, chatting like this was all some casual sparring match.

"Oh, come on, entertain me," Hawks teased, effortlessly banking away from another shot. "I mean, a kid with your tech skills, brains, and inventiveness could be doing anything. But here you are. So, what's the endgame, really? You have some beef with All Might? Or is this just some kind of phase?"

The question struck a nerve. Izuku didn't have an answer, not really. He hadn't thought much about the why—not in a way that felt real. But Hawks didn't need to know that. He scowled, deciding to hit back with a half-truth just to shut him up as he was really starting to get annoyed by this question as well as Hawks himself. "I have something personal against All Might. I want to settle the score. And I'm going to end him," he declared, trying to keep his voice steady.

Hawks raised an amused eyebrow, a playful scoff escaping his lips. "Really? What else? Gonna steal the moon or something while you're at it?" He said sarcastically.

Izuku's patience snapped, his hands tightening around the controls. "Will you please just shut up!" He practically growled, slamming his fist down onto a button. With that, the side hatches of his airship swung open, revealing a ridiculously oversized arsenal of missiles stacked and ready to fire.

Hawks' eyes widened slightly as he assessed the comical yet intimidating array of weaponry. That's...a lot of missiles, he thought, feeling a mix of alarm and reluctant admiration for the young villain's audacity.

Before he could react, Izuku pressed down on the firing button, releasing the barrage. The night sky lit up as the missiles arced toward Hawks. Instantly, his casual demeanor fell away, replaced by focused determination. With a sharp flick of his wings, Hawks launched into evasive maneuvers, feathers detaching and streaking through the air. Each feather found a missile, exploding them mid-flight in flashes of orange and red.

As he dodged through the chaos, Hawks called back over the commotion, "Now that's more like it! But you're going to need more than a couple of rockets to keep me quiet." He darted forward with the agility of a hawk on the hunt, ready for Izuku's next move. "But tell me, don't you think a big plan should come with a big reason?" He continued to ask.

Annoyed that none of his missiles hit, Izuku gritted his teeth, fighting to keep up with Hawks' taunts. "My reasons are none of your business!" he spat, firing off more rounds, unwilling to let this pro make a joke of his resolve.

After more time passes and they continue air-fighting, Izuku gritted his teeth, frustration mounting as he watched Hawks effortlessly dodge and dismantle every missile he launched. This was going nowhere—he needed to lose Hawks somehow, but escaping from Japan's No. 3 pro hero was no small feat.

Meanwhile, Hawks kept a laser focus on the airship, his feathers darting forward in search of any weaknesses in the ship's armor. Despite his calm demeanor, Hawks was having a relatively difficult time as breaking into Izuku's airship was proving harder than he'd thought. Every surface was reinforced, every angle covered, and it seemed that no matter how precisely he aimed, Izuku had built this craft with resistance in mind.

"Alright, kid," Hawks muttered under his breath, smirking slightly. "You've got some skills piloting that thing, I'll give you that. But let's see if you're fast enough."

Izuku's mind raced as he watched Hawks slip around his attacks with ease. He hadn't anticipated a face-to-face with a pro hero tonight, let alone one who was this annoyingly persistent. But then an idea hit him. It was a risky idea, but one he's willing to take. One he has to take at this point.

Izuku's airship suddenly shot straight up, engines roaring as it rocketed toward the upper atmosphere. Hawks squinted, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected move, but quickly shot up to follow. Higher and higher they went, the thinning air whistling against the ship's hull until it reached its max altitude, engines straining against gravity. And then Izuku did the unthinkable: he cut the power.

Hawks barely had time to register what was happening before the airship plummeted back toward Earth, streaking past him in a blur. He narrowly dodged the falling ship, his wings flaring to avoid getting clipped by the massive hull as it barreled down through the clouds. As the airship fell, the minions Jim, Ryan, and Oscar were still intently focused on their UNO game as Jim whooped victoriously while the rest of the minion crew were all over the place.

As the airship fell through the thick cloud cover, Izuku used the dense vapor to his advantage, adjusting the controls subtly to drift and cloak his descent. By the time Hawks had steadied himself and caught up, he found nothing but swirling clouds as he emerged from the dense mist.

"Wha-? Where did he-?!" Hawks stammered, frantically scanning the skies for any sign of Izuku's ship. But the villain had vanished, leaving Hawks suspended mid-air, alone and bewildered.

But by the time he went to go searching again, Deku was already long gone. Damn it. Hawks thought in a rare state of dejection. From now on, he made sure to take the young villain more seriously the next time they meet.

Meanwhile, Izuku's airship cruised silently through the clouds, now well out of Hawks' reach. With the hero gone, he allowed himself to relax once again and finally refocus on his rescue mission. But after that encounter, Izuku would make a mental note to make sure to install a cloaking system on his next airship.

As Izuku glanced back, he took in the sight of his minions in varying states of disarray. Most were clinging to whatever they could grab onto, trying to steady themselves after the chaotic aerial stunts. Jim, Ryan, and Oscar were still laser-focused on their card game, seemingly unfazed, while the rest of the crew groaned and shot him exaggerated looks of relief.

"You... guys alright? Sorry about the bumpy ride," he asked, his voice carrying a hint of sheepishness. The minions all gave him various tired thumbs-ups, their usual enthusiasm a bit dampened by the surprise aerial acrobatics.

One minion, still sprawled out, muttered something in their usual gibberish, but it sounded suspiciously like, "Could've given us a heads-up, boss." Izuku chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

"Next time, I'll be sure to send out a memo," he replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. However, his expression quickly sobered as he glanced back at the controls, initiating the autopilot once more. Izuku slumped back on his pilot seat, his eyes closed as he began to doze off for the duration of the flight since his sleep was abruptly interrupted by his encounter with Hawks.

---

Meanwhile, behind Jakku Hospital, All Might, now in his skeletal form, concealed himself in the shadows. His gaze remained fixed on the building, knowing that any moment now, Izuku would arrive. He had received critical intel from Detective Tsukauchi, who had learned through a curious series of events that this hospital was indeed Deku's next destination.

Unbeknownst to Izuku, one of Hawks' feathers had managed to lodge itself onto a hidden corner of the ship during their battle. Despite Izuku's best efforts to evade detection, Hawks had capitalized on this minor oversight, using the feather as a makeshift tracker.

Immediately after his encounter with the young villain, Hawks had relayed the coordinates to the nearest police station, where Detective Tsukauchi was stationed. Tsukauchi wasted no time, quickly passing the information along to All Might, who prepared to intercept the young, ambitious villain.

What can All Might say? Heroes move quick.

Though he knew it might be foolish to face Deku alone, All Might felt a deep responsibility—a need to confront the young man he'd unintentionally led down the path of villainy. Perhaps it was naïve, perhaps reckless, but All Might was driven by the belief that he had to try, one last time, to correct his past mistakes and reach out to the boy who'd once believed in him.

---

Izuku stirred awake, his brief sleep interrupted by a steady beeping from the ship's GPS. He groaned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he saw the alert flashing on the screen: he was nearing Jakku Hospital. Straightening in his seat, he glanced back at the minions, who were still recovering from the turbulence.

"Alright, guys," he muttered, taking control of the ship once more. "Get ready. It's almost time to make our move."

At that, the minions scrambled into action, strapping on gear and gearing up for the mission ahead. Paul raised a hand, tilting his head as he gestured to the stealth suits hanging nearby. "Nama pem pata een stealthy ko tepo veela?" he asked, hinting at a more subtle approach.

Izuku hesitated, a part of him tempted by their enthusiasm—but the memory of one of his minions getting captured flashed through his mind. The last thing he wanted was to put them in danger again. He forced a small, reassuring smile and shook his head. "Actually, you guys should stay here," he said, doing his best to sound calm. "I'll go alone this time. I've got it under control."

The minions' excited expressions fell, and a collective groan rose up, but Izuku held firm, his voice soft but resolute. "Look, I don't want any of you getting hurt or caught again. Jim, Rob—I need you two to keep the ship ready and primed to leave fast. You guys have to be my eyes from here."

Though clearly disappointed, the minions nodded, rallying themselves behind their leader's decision. Jim and Rob reluctantly saluted, giving their usual, "Si, boss," though it lacked their usual enthusiasm.

Izuku gave them a final nod before turning toward the open hatch, allowing for the gust of wind to enter the cabin. Izuku swallowed hard, staring down at the dizzying drop below. The hospital was just a distant speck beneath him, shrouded in the dark night, and for a moment, his nerves flared up. Oh, damn. That's... really high, he thought, his grip tightening on the edges of the hatch. But with a deep breath, he forced himself to focus.

He could hear the faint, encouraging cheers of his minions behind him. "Para tu woka, boss!" one of them called out, their voices lifting his spirits and grounding him. Izuku shot them a quick, reassuring thumbs-up before he steeled himself, feeling a surge of determination.

"Alright, Deku," he muttered under his breath, "you've got this." And with calm deep breath, he leaned forward...and fell.

Izuku took steady breaths, feeling the rush of cold night air around him as he fell from the sky like a nuke, his form cutting cleanly through the dark night and thick clouds. For a split second, everything was quiet—just the wind fluttering his clothes and scarf, his own heartbeat echoing in his ears and the illumination of the moon itself.

Below, Jakku Hospital loomed larger and larger. He locked his gaze on the rooftop, his goggles squinting through the blur of wind and clouds as he calculated his descent. As he neared the roof, Izuku pulled upon his parachute, and a sharp snap broke the silence as the parachute billowed open above him, jerking him upward and slowing his fall.

As he neared his landing point, he released the chute, letting it drift away on the breeze. His feet hit the rooftop in a smooth roll, absorbing the impact before he rose into a low, crouched position as the illumination of the moon shun behind him. He made a cool supervillain entrance~! He looked every bit the part, with his freeze ray in one hand and a flamethrower in the other strapped across his chest.

Now, why did he do all this when he could've just did the same thing he did last time and parked his airship somewhere hidden and sneak into the hospital from there? No reason. He just liked being dramatic.

Izuku's eyes gleamed as he scanned the rooftop. "Alright," he muttered with a smirk. "Let's do this!"

---

The night shift at Jakku Hospital had been quiet, with a few remaining staff counting down the minutes until the end of their shifts. Nurses organized their stations, a receptionist stretched her arms with a yawn, and a doctor updated patient files, all blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.

Then, without warning—

KABOOM!

The wall above the reception area exploded, a deafening blast that sent a shockwave rattling through the entire floor. Dust and debris filled the air as the front desk was thrown back, scattering papers and overturning chairs. Shouts of panic echoed through the halls as people ducked for cover, shielding themselves from falling rubble and the blinding burst of light.

Through the settling dust, a figure emerged, silhouetted by the glow of moonlight streaming in through the gaping hole in the wall. Izuku stepped on the rubble, his eyes gleaming, his expression calm but carrying an undeniable intensity. Freeze ray in one hand, flamethrower laying on his shoulder, he scanned the chaotic scene with the precision of someone who knew exactly what he was after.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said with a slow grin, his voice echoing in the stunned silence, "don't mind me—I'm just here for a little...retrieval mission."

He aimed his freeze ray right in front of a receptionist's terrified face as he stood above the rubble. "Now, tell me where I can find Dr. Garaki?"

The receptionist's eyes widened in fear, her gaze locked on the glinting nozzle of the freeze ray aimed right between her eyes. She stammered, desperately trying to form words as Izuku's smirk deepened, his calm demeanor only making him seem more terrifying in the half-destroyed room.

"W-what... w-what do you want with Dr. Garaki?" she finally managed to choke out, her voice trembling.

Izuku's expression didn't waver. "That's not the answer I'm looking for." He tilted the freeze ray a fraction, finger hovering over the trigger. "I'd hate for things to get messy, so let's keep it simple. Dr. Garaki—where is he?" He demanded in a more threatening tone as he pushed the tip of his freeze ray closer to her face.

The woman swallowed, glancing around in a desperate attempt to find someone, anyone, who could help. Seeing no choice, she pointed down the hallway. "Third floor...room 312."

"See? That wasn't so hard." Izuku stepped back, his gaze shifting toward the hallway. With purposeful strides, he moved toward the stairwell, leaving the receptionist and the others in the lobby stunned, too terrified to move.

As he ascended the stairs, the door at the top swung open, and Dr. Garaki stepped out, grumbling to himself. "What on earth is all this noise—EEK!" The old doctor nearly jumped out of his skin as he found himself staring down the icy barrel of Izuku's freeze ray.

Izuku's expression was cold and unwavering. "I'm here to reclaim what's mine," he said, voice low and deadly serious. "My minion—the one you stole during my last visit here."

"Y-your minion?" he stammered, trying to keep his voice steady but failing miserably. "I don't know what you're talking about, young man. Perhaps we can—"

Izuku's glare hardened, cutting off the doctor's attempt at feigned ignorance. "Don't play dumb with me, old man. You took something from me, and I'm here to get it back. Now, take me to wherever you've got him hidden. Unless," he raised the freeze ray slightly, the cold tip nearly brushing Garaki's nose, "you'd like me to turn you and this whole place into an ice rink?"

Garaki gulped audibly, beads of sweat forming on his brow as he slowly raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright! No need for threats!" he stammered. "Follow me. The creature you're looking for is in the restricted lab." Although the old doctor was terrified, he was also internally cursing at Shigaraki for revealing the kidnapped minion to Deku already. He had underestimated how fiercely Deku would react.

Izuku gave a curt nod, motioning with the freeze ray for Garaki to lead the way. "Good. Move it. And no funny business." But before they went any further, he turned, aimed his flamethrower back down the hallway, and unleashed a sweeping arc of flames. The fire spread down the corridor, the intense heat deterring anyone who might consider following.

"Let's not waste time," Izuku repeated, his eyes locked on Garaki, who gave a hurried nod before leading him down a dim, twisting corridor. The path descended into the bowels of the hospital, deeper and deeper until they reached an underground section that Izuku had no idea even existed. Judging by the cobwebs and silence from above, he doubted anyone else in the hospital knew of this place either. Looks like my hunch about the old doctor was spot on, he thought.

The air grew colder and more stale as they moved deeper, the sterile hospital atmosphere replaced by something far more sinister. They stepped into a vast, dimly lit chamber—a secret lair filled with monstrous roars and unsettling echoes. Even Izuku, no stranger to villainy, felt a bit uncomfortable and creeped out as his eyes darted around, catching sight of shadowy figures moving behind reinforced bars. The sounds coming from the cells were nothing like he'd ever heard, a mix of growls, screeches, and unearthly wails.

Izuku kept his composure, though he could feel the unease gnawing at him. What kind of place is this? he wondered, his grip tightening slightly on his weapons.

Garaki led him further, past rows of monstrous experiments suspended in large glass tubes. Some were grotesque fusions of multiple creatures, others distorted beyond recognition. The sight was disturbing enough that Izuku felt a wave of nausea, but he forced himself to look away. None of this is my business, he reminded himself. He was here for one thing and one thing only: his missing minion.

"Your... experiments," Izuku remarked offhandedly, trying to mask his discomfort. "Quite the collection you've got here."

Garaki gave a nervous chuckle, not meeting his eyes, especially when there was a freeze ray aimed right at the back of his head. "Yes, well... you know how it is in our line of work. But I assure you, what you're looking for is just ahead."

Izuku's gaze darkened, his patience thinning. "Good," he muttered. Because the sooner I get him back, the sooner I can leave this freak show or whatever the hell this place is.

The doctor opened up a door and it revealed Izuku's minion strapped into a chair and looking terrified as a couple of experimental tools and weapons were all around him. There," Dr. Garaki said, stepping back with his hands raised. "Take him. I've done nothing to it yet—"

Izuku cut him off with a glare. He wasn't about to take any chances, not in a place like this. His finger tightened on the trigger of his freeze ray. "I'm not stupid, old man," he spat. Before Garaki could react, a blast of icy blue energy shot out, enveloping the doctor in a thick layer of frost.

"Wha—?! What are you—? ARGH!" Garaki's scream was cut short as he was frozen solid, his expression locked in shock and anger beneath the ice.

Izuku took a deep breath, steadying himself as he lowered his weapon. "Sorry, doc," he muttered sarcastically, "but I can't have you pulling any tricks while my back is turned."

He quickly crossed the room, kneeling beside his minion. "Hey, little guy," he said softly, his voice losing its usual edge. He reached up to carefully undo the restraints, his hands gentle despite the adrenaline still surging through him. "You alright? Let's get you out of here."

The minion nodded rapidly, tears welling up in its eyes as it clung tightly to Izuku's arm. "Pank yu, boss!" He thanked gratefully.

"It's alright," Izuku whispered with a reassuring smile, giving the creature a pat on the head. "Let's get out of this creepy place." With one final look at the frozen Garaki, Izuku turned and bolted his way back down the corridor, his minion safely tucked under his arm.

Izuku raced out of the hospital, his rescued minion clinging to him as he pressed onto the comm in his ear. "Jim, Rob—come in," he called urgently, but the line stayed silent which confused the young villain. He tried again, hoping they were just up to their usual antics, but worry began to creep into his chest when there was still no response.

"Jim? Rob? Anyone? Come on, pick up!" He waited, listening desperately for a reply. Nothing.

Dread pooling in his stomach, Izuku finally reached the hospital parking lot. His eyes widened, shock giving way to a cold, seething anger. He scanned the wreckage, his crew of minions tied up on a nearby street light, but then he froze, a shiver running down his spine. Standing atop the mangled remnants of his ship was a familiar, towering figure.

All Might.

The No. 1 hero's eyes blazed with determination as he pointed directly at Izuku. "You have nowhere to run now, villain!" he declared with his large iconic smile, his voice echoing powerfully across the lot. "Why? Because I AM HERE!"

Well, there goes my airship, Izuku thought bitterly, clenching his fists as he forced himself to keep calm. His gaze darted from the wreckage, to his captured minions, and finally to the lone minion clutching his arm, trying to appear brave but shaking all the same. He took a deep breath, pushing down the edge of panic simmering in his chest. If I had a nickel for every time I've run into a pro hero tonight, I'd have two nickels...which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.

A cold realization hit him as he surveyed the scene. His airship was a smoking ruin, his escape route obliterated as well as most of his fighting equipment he built specifically to fight All Might. He swallowed hard as even he knew how dire this situation was. Alright...this is bad.

Nonetheless, he straightened, willing himself to stay composed under All Might's intense stare. "So, you really went all out this time?" he called, his voice hard as he tried to maintain his bravado. "We meet again, huh? Didn't expect to see you so soon..."

Although his smile was still present, the symbol of peace's voice turned more serious. "Indeed, we do," All Might replied gravely, stepping down from the remains of the airship. "This time, I’m here to fix a mistake I made. I let you walk down this path, Midoriya. And I won’t let it continue."

Izuku's smirk twisted into a bitter grimace. "Tch!" He scowled as didn't need a lecture, especially not from the man who crushed his hopes and dream. His patience snapped like a taut wire. Without a word, he raised both his freeze ray and flamethrower, firing them at the No. 1 hero with everything he had. Ice and fire shot out in a volatile combination, roaring toward All Might in a chaotic stream.

But All Might moved faster than he could blink. With an effortless sidestep, the hero dodged the blasts, the ground beneath him cracking under the force of his landing as he dropped right in front of Izuku. The shockwave sent Izuku flying back, skidding across the asphalt until he hit a parked car, gasping as the air was knocked out of his lungs.

He coughed, trying to catch his breath as All Might approached, his hands raised in a non-threatening manner. "You don’t have to do this, young Midoriya," All Might said, his voice calm but laced with urgency. "I’m not here to hurt you. I just want to talk."

Izuku's vision blurred with fury. He struggled to his feet, his legs shaking, but he refused to back down. He clenched his teeth, glaring up at his former idol. "Talk?" he spat, his voice dripping with venom. "You think talking will fix this? You think you can just waltz in here and play the mentor now?!"

All Might's face fell, a deep sadness in his eyes. "I know I failed you," he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. "I pushed you away when you needed someone to believe in you most. And I’ve regretted it every day since."

Izuku’s hands tightened around his weapons, his knuckles white. "Spare me your pity!" he shouted, firing another blast of ice, but All Might deflected it effortlessly with a simple punch, the frozen stream shattering into harmless shards.

"You know this is futile, young Midoriya," All Might said quietly. "You’re outmatched. You don’t have to keep fighting."

Izuku’s breath came in ragged gasps, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of his eyes. He hated how condescending it all sounded, how hollow the words felt coming from him, despite that fact that All Might's intention is indeed pure. The same man who had crushed his dream on that rooftop months ago. The same man who told him he could never be a hero.

All Might took a step closer, his face softening with a pained expression. "It’s not too late," he continued, his voice gentle. "You can still turn back from this path. You’re more than this, Midoriya. I believe in you—"

"STOP IT!" Izuku’s voice cracked, his anger boiling over. His entire body trembled as he glared at his former idol with every ounce of hatred he could muster. "DON’T PRETEND TO UNDERSTAND!!!"

Without another word, he launched himself forward, unleashing a wild barrage of everything he had. He fired his freeze ray, then switched to his flamethrower, lobbing smoke bombs, and hurling every gadget from his belt—net launchers, flash grenades, shock discs—anything and everything he could get his hands on. The air was filled with the chaotic noise of explosions, freezing blasts, and the crackling of electricity. Each strike was desperate, fueled by raw emotion rather than strategy.

All Might was forced to step back, his powerful frame withstanding the assault but clearly taken aback by the ferocity of the attacks. He weaved and dodged through the hailstorm of gadgets, deflecting what he could with a swing of his arm and taking on the smaller hits head-on. Ice crystals formed on his shoulder, smoke clouded his vision, and sparks flew from the shock discs. It was doing nothing more than superficial damage—his hero training had prepared him for much worse—but it wasn’t the damage that concerned him.

It was the look in Izuku’s eyes.

This wasn’t just a fight. It was an eruption of pent-up grief, anger, and betrayal, and each attack was less about winning and more about releasing that torrent of emotions. The gadgets kept coming, even as Izuku’s hands shook, his aim going wild. The boy was venting years of pain, each strike screaming what his voice couldn’t say.

All Might clenched his fists, feeling his heart twist as he realized what he had driven this young man to. "Midoriya!" he shouted over the noise, trying to reach him through the storm. "You need to stop! This isn't the way—"

"SHUT UP!" Izuku screamed back, his voice breaking and sounding insulted. He hurled another set of grenades, this time flashbangs that exploded in bursts of blinding light. He squeezed his eyes shut against the brightness, but it didn’t matter. He wasn’t aiming anymore. He was just throwing everything he had left, his movements wild and uncoordinated but it was working in his favor of keeping his distance.

Just need a bit more time... he thought, forcing himself to stay on his feet even as his body trembled from exhaustion. He looked around quickly, trying to find a viable escape route. But he could feel the walls closing in. His airship was gone, his minions captured, and the No. 1 hero was standing between him and any chance of getting away.

 Even so, Izuku wasn’t ready to give up. He was buying himself precious seconds with every explosive flash, every cloud of smoke. If he could just create enough of a distraction, just find one opening—

All Might’s voice cut through the chaos again, more forceful this time. "Young Midoriya, stop!"

Izuku remained in silent rage as he kept throwing everything he had at the No. 1 hero. He launched a freeze grenade, then a smokescreen capsule, the devices clattering and exploding around All Might's feet.

Meanwhile, tied up on the street lamp, the minion crew hung limply, their small bodies slumped and unconscious from the earlier attack. That is, except for one—Rob. He stirred groggily, blinking his big eyes open as he slowly came to. He squinted, peering through the haze, and his jaw dropped when he saw his boss, Deku, locked in a tense standoff with the No. 1 hero himself.

Rob's eyes widened in alarm, and he immediately started shaking his fellow minions, trying to rouse them. "Hey! Nip aka! Tokas linda aka!" he whispered urgently, tugging at their bindings, but they remained unconscious, drooling as they hung like laundry on a line.

Realizing that his crew wasn’t waking up anytime soon, Rob let out a frustrated huff. He twisted and wriggled, trying to free himself from the ropes binding him to the lamp. He quickly glanced at the knot, his 'burglary' instincts kicking in as he tried to think of a way out. He attempted to shimmy his way out but quickly found it was too tight.

"Ugh! po en!" He grunted in Minionese, his little teeth gritting in determination. With no other options left, he decided to resort to one method he thought might work...biting through the ropes.

“Boss, ka'll linda kapee!” He muttered through a mouthful of rope, eyes narrowing with determination. “Ka'll hep!”

Rob froze mid-bite, his teeth still clamped on the fraying rope. He blinked a few times, feeling something small and metallic poking out of his pocket. With a curious frown, he reached down, fingers fumbling for the object. He pulled it out slowly and stared at it in disbelief.

It was a small combat knife.

"Oh," he muttered in flat realization, his mouth still full of rope fibers. For a moment, he just looked at the knife, a mix of annoyance and embarrassment flashing across his face. He had been gnawing like a hamster for who knows how long, only to realize he had the perfect tool for escape this entire time.

With an exasperated sigh, he spat out the rope fibers, shook his head, and started sawing through the ropes with the knife. The tough fibers gave way quickly under the sharp blade, and within moments, he felt the ropes loosen and slip away from his wrists.

“Ugh, finalmente!” he muttered in relief, shaking off the last of the bindings. He quickly jumped down from the street lamp and landed with a soft thud on the ground. He glanced back at the ongoing battle—Izuku was still throwing everything he had at All Might, desperately trying to keep his distance.

With his knife in hand, Rob skittered over to the other tied-up minions, cutting them free one by one. “Vamo, vamo!” he urged in Minionese, shaking them awake. "Boss uke hep!"

The minions, still groggy and confused, blinked up at him, slowly processing what was happening. But the urgency in Rob’s voice and the sight of their boss struggling against All Might snapped them to attention.

Together, the minions scrambled to their feet, ready to jump into action and help their boss in any way they could.

They looked around until Jim suddenly called for their attention. "Hey! Rob! Looka!" Rob's eyes lit up as he followed Jim's pointing finger, his gaze landing on the wreckage of the airship. Amid the smoking debris and twisted metal, a small glint of hope shone through—Deku's motorbike was still there, wedged under a chunk of rubble but seemingly intact.

"Ka'pee!" Rob whispered excitedly, turning to the others with a wide grin. "El motobike!"

The minions quickly got to work and began digging the motorbike out the rubble. They didn't need to fight All Might head-on; they just needed to clear a path for their boss. With renewed vigor, the group scrambled over to the wreckage, moving swiftly and quietly as to not draw attention from the No.1 hero.

Back with Izuku and All Might, the barrage of attacks had stopped, and the young villain stood in a moment of stillness, his weapons spent, his body trembling. Izuku seemed to be at the end of his wits as he felt the weight of it all pressing down on him—the lost airship, his captured minions, and the imposing figure of All Might staring him down.

Seeing the chance, All Might took a deep breath and cautiously stepped forward, his expression softening. "Young Midoriya," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "It doesn’t have to end like this. I know you’re angry, and I know I’ve made mistakes, but this path you’re on… it will only lead to more pain."

Izuku’s shoulders stiffened at the words, his eyes narrowing. The hero’s plea seemed to cut through the haze of his anger, if only for a moment. He looked down at his hands, shaking slightly from the adrenaline and exhaustion. For a fleeting second, it seemed as if he might surrender, as if he might take the hero’s hand and finally lay down his arms.

"Please," All Might continued, his hand outstretched in a gesture of hope. "Allow me to have the chance right the mistake I made."

Izuku’s eyes flicked up, meeting All Might’s gaze. The tears in his eyes weren’t of fear but of deep-seated hurt and frustration. He slowly reached out, his hand moving toward the hero’s. All Might’s face softened, a small, hopeful smile beginning to form.

But then, Izuku’s expression hardened. His eyes turned cold, calculating. In a swift motion, he gripped All Might’s hand tightly and yanked the hero towards him with impressive and unexpected strength. Before All Might could react, Izuku jammed a small, cylindrical device into the old wound on All Might’s side—a gap he knew was his one weak spot. The device activated with a sharp click, sending a powerful shockwave directly into the hero’s damaged area! It was the only Anti-All Might weapon he had left on him.

"Argh!" All Might’s eyes went wide, a pained grunt escaping his lips as the jolt of energy coursed through him. His body convulsed, and he stumbled, dropping to his knees as he clutched at his side, gasping for breath.

But Izuku didn't stop. He twist and turned the device, causing the hero even more pain. A vicious, almost manic glint sparkled in his eyes as he leaned in closer, a dark smile pulling at his lips.

"What's wrong?" Izuku hissed, his voice laced with venom. "You shouldn't have told me about your little secret, All Might. Did you really think I wouldn't use it against you? That I’d just sit and listen while you lectured me?"

All Might's face contorted in pain, his body seizing up as another shockwave pulsed through the device, sending ripples of agony through his already damaged side. He gasped, teeth gritted as he tried to push Izuku away, but the young villain held firm, using the element of surprise and his sheer determination to keep the hero pinned.

With a desperate burst of strength, All Might’s fist came crashing down, striking the ground with a force that sent shockwaves rippling through the concrete. "DETROIT...SMASH!" he bellowed, his voice resonating with the last reserves of his strength. The sheer force of the impact shattered the ground beneath them, sending Izuku tumbling back, his hold on the device breaking as he flew across the parking lot.

Izuku hit the ground hard, rolling several feet before finally coming to a stop. Dizzy and bruised, he scrambled to his feet, clutching his side and gasping for air. He glared at All Might, eyes blazing with frustration as he fought to steady himself.

All Might staggered, trying to close the distance between him and Izuku, his breath coming in labored gasps. But just as he reached out, ready to speak, a sudden, deafening explosion erupted between them.

BOOM!

The shockwave blasted All Might off his feet, sending him crashing into a nearby car. The No. 1 hero groaned, disoriented as smoke and debris filled the air.

Izuku blinked in shock, momentarily stunned as he turned toward the source of the missile. His eyes widened as he spotted his minions, free from their binds, clustered around his motorbike. One of them, Rob, stood at the controls of a makeshift missile launcher cobbled together from scraps of the destroyed airship.

“Boss! Ka'll hep!” Rob shouted triumphantly, grinning wide as he gave a thumbs-up.

The rest of the minions cheered, hopping excitedly. They had managed to turn the tables, even if just for a moment, giving their boss a chance to escape.

Izuku’s expression softened briefly, a rare, relieved smile flashing across his face. “Good job, you guys,” he muttered under his breath, pushing himself to his feet. Without wasting another second, he sprinted toward the motorbike and picking up his rescued minion along the way.

"Come on, let's get out of here!" he shouted, hopping onto the bike. The minions piled on behind him in a chaotic scramble, their small hands gripping onto anything they could hold as Izuku revved the engine.

Vroom! Vroom!

All Might struggled to his knees, shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears. He looked up just in time to see the motorbike screeching away, the tires kicking up a cloud of dust as Izuku and his crew sped off into the night without a second thought.

The symbol of peace dropped to one knee, clutching at his wounded side, his body shaking with each labored breath. Damn it, he thought bitterly, a wave of self-reproach washing over him. He’d been so confident, so sure he could reach out to Izuku, to steer him back from this dark path. But once again, he had failed. He had misjudged the situation, misjudged the depth of the boy’s pain, and let his emotions cloud his judgment.

All Might stood in the middle of the empty parking lot, his posture sagging with the weight of the defeat. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the headache that was creeping in. His thoughts were a storm of frustration, regret, and uncertainty. Maybe I should start listening to Tsukauchi, he thought again. He had always believed that he had to do things on his own, but tonight had been a painful reminder that even the No. 1 Hero had limits.

On top of having been outwitted by a quirkless boy, nonetheless, having his crucial weakness revealed would've been a huge blow and disastrous to his reputation. All Might sighed once again. This was not how he had expected their interaction to go. It seemed that he had underestimated the young villain as well.

---

Izuku gripped the handlebars of his motorbike with a white-knuckled intensity, the wind howling past him as he sped down the empty motorway. That was way too close for comfort, he thought, his pulse still racing from the confrontation with All Might.

As the road stretched out ahead, his mind refused to quiet. Who the hell does he think he is? he seethed. Talking like he understands what it’s like to be quirkless.

A sudden thought struck him, and he found himself momentarily distracted. Could he...actually have been quirkless before? The idea was absurd, but it lingered in his mind for a moment, impossible yet intriguing.

Izuku snorted, shaking his head in disbelief at his own musings. I think of the wildest things. But wouldn't that just be hilarious?

Izuku kept his foot on the gas, speeding down the empty motorway as the events of the past few hours raced through his mind. It felt like an eternity had passed since his heist at Gang Orca's agency, but it had only been a day. Since then, he'd been thrown into a whirlwind of chaos: a tense meeting with dangerous villains, a surprise encounter with Hawks during his rescue mission, and now, a narrow escape from All Might himself.

Yeah, safe to say that it has been a hectic past couple of days for the young villain. And he was in such a dilemma as it felt like every time he turned a corner, there was another pro hero or villain questioning his motives, pushing him to reveal some grand plan.

What's your goal, Deku? What are you really after? It was a question that kept coming up, and he was starting to get tired of it. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure yet. He’d been so focused on proving himself, on surviving, that he hadn’t taken the time to define his true aim.

It's quite bothering that all of this happened all because he just wanted to feel loved and accepted...

I'll figure it out later, he decided with a frustrated sigh. If I think about it too much now, my head's gonna explode. Because right now, he had some much needed sleep to catch up to when he gets back home.

Chapter Text

Katsuki Bakugou lay sprawled across his bed, his eyes fixed on the cracks in the ceiling. His hands itched to do something—anything—but he couldn't. Not when his parents had grounded him, forbidding him from attending U.A. until further notice. The punishment was harsh, but he knew he deserved worse.

'I guess it is what they say; karma's a bitch,' he thought bitterly, tossing a pillow against the wall.

But no matter how much he tried to rationalize it, the frustration wouldn't subside. Izuku was out there, wreaking havoc, putting himself and others in danger, and Katsuki couldn't do a damn thing about it. His mind raced as he turned over every possible solution. Nothing stuck. He couldn't just sit here and sulk while Izuku spiraled further out of control, wreaking meaningless havoc all over and becoming a dangerous hazard to everyone around him including himself.

His gaze drifted to the All Might figure on his desk. Katsuki groaned, burying his face in his hands. 'What would All Might do?' he wondered. Katsuki  had now realized that whatever he was doing before—all the bullying, torment, and violence he inflicted upon those he deemed inferior to him— was unbecoming of a hero. So, he decided to try and look at All Might the same way Izuku did. Not because he's all-powerful and seemingly unstoppable, but because, in Izuku's words, 'he's a true hero and makes people feel safe'.

Katsuiki sighed. In the end, he decided that he would try to right the wrongs of his mistakes and have a meaningful talk with Izuku. And that is if he gets the chance and if Izuku hadn't hated his guts completely by then...which he more than likely does. But Katsuki has to try. But how? That was the pressing issue. And what would he even say? 'Hey, Izuku, sorry for bullying you our whole lives. Wanna grab lunch?' Katsuki scoffed.

He knew a single apology wouldn't erase everything he'd done. It would take more—much more. But he had to start somewhere. His first step was getting out of this damn house. He had tried everything but his parents wouldn't budge. So, he was forced to resort to so something that the overly-prideful Katsuki Bakugou would never thought he'd do: Beg.

Mitsuki Bakugou sat at the kitchen table, a steaming cup of tea in front of her. Her fingers drummed against the table as her mind replayed the conversation she'd had with Inko Midoriya days ago and how she's encourage the grieving mother.

She sighed, leaning back in her chair. "Was that the right thing to say?" she muttered under her breath. Honestly, what the was she supposed to do or say at that moment? It was a lot for her to take in.

Granted, she's disappointed in Inko just as anyone else is, but who was she to judge? She, too, had failed as a parent in her own way. Katsuki wasn't just a bully; he was a reflection of the environment she'd raised him in. Mitsuki sighed. Looks like being the enabler type of parent came back to bite her in the ass.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. She glanced up to see Katsuki standing at the kitchen doorway, his expression a mix of frustration and discomfort. His shoulders were stiff, and his gaze didn't quite meet hers.

"What do you want, Katsuki?" she asked, trying to sound neutral but failing to keep the edge out of her voice.

"I need to talk to you and the old man," Katsuki said, his tone unusually restrained. Mitsuki arched an eyebrow.

"This about you wanting to attend U.A.?" she guessed. "If it is, the answer's still no." Mitsuki crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair.

Katsuki hung his had low and said nothing which was more than enough of an answer. Mitsuki pinched the bridge of her nose. "Katsuki, how many times do we have to tell you? You're grounded. You need to stay here and think about what you've done. Not try to jump back into U.A. like nothing's happened."

Katsuki's fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening. "And you think sitting here is going to fix anything? Izuku's still out there! I can't—" He stopped, his voice catching. "I can't just do nothing."

"You can't fix this by running headfirst into something like you always do," Mitsuki shot back, her tone sharp. "This isn't about just you anymore. You need to understand that!"

"I do understand!" Katsuki snapped, his voice cracking under the strain. "I get it, alright? I've been a shitty son and an even worse friend and person. I know that. But I'm trying to fix it now!"

Mitsuki's eyes widened slightly at his admission, but she kept her expression guarded. "You think just going to U.A. is going to fix it? That it's going to make up for what you did to Izuku?"

"No," Katsuki said firmly. "But it's a start. I don't know what else to do, Old ha-...Mom. I don't even know if he'll ever forgive me, but I have to try."

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between them as Mitsuki was caught off-guard that her son had actually called her 'mom'. Then, without another word, Katsuki stepped back, his movements slow and deliberate. He lowered himself into a 90-degree bow, his head nearly touching the floor.

"Please," he said, his voice quieter than Mitsuki had ever heard it. "Please let me try."

Mitsuki stared at her son, speechless. She had never—never—seen Katsuki bow like this. The sheer desperation and sincerity in his voice shook her. For a moment, she didn't know how to respond.

Masaru entered the kitchen then, drawn by the raised voices, only to stop short at the sight of Katsuki's bowed figure. He exchanged a look with Mitsuki, his brows furrowing in concern.

"Well," Mitsuki finally said, her voice softer but still firm. "You've got a lot to explain if you want us to even think about this."

Katsuki straightened, his movements stiff, but he nodded. "I'll explain. Whatever you want to know, I'll tell you."

Soon enough, the three of them gathered in the living room later that evening, Mitsuki and Masaru sitting across from Katsuki. The air was tense, heavy with unspoken emotions.

Masaru broke the silence. "Before we start, I need to ask you something, Katsuki. Why? Why did you bully Izuku?" He asked, his tone unusually more...strict. Katsuki flinched at the tone that his father was giving him but didn't look away. He knew his father was angry at him. In fact, his father was the most furious at him as opposed to his mother who was immensely disappointed after finding out all that he did to Izuku.

Masaru Bakugou's type of anger was different than his wife's. With Mitsuki's as well as Katsuki's, their rage are like a fireworks. Loud, bright, but quick. When they were mad, people can tell. But Masaru? His rage is like a tide, a tsunami. When it was far off, it looked harmless and small, but if one wasn't paying attention enough, the tide would be upon them in a blink, high and daunting, ready to drown and decimate. Like an unstoppable force.

Masaru Bakugou's anger was slow. It was quiet, but it was deep. But when it reaches it's heights, it is a sea level of anger that dwarfs Katsuki's and his mother's combined.

It really is as they say: Watch out for the quiet ones.

Katsuki took a deep breath. He knew that his father was not pleased with him asking for the chance to aim at U.A again but he had to speak up. "I don't know," he admitted. "At first, it was just...he annoyed me. He was always tagging along, always so damn cheerful. Always so smart. But then, when I got my quirk and he didn't, I thought...I thought I was better than him. Better than everyone."

The parents' eyes furrowed, but they allowed him to continue.

"So, I...I bullied him. Hurt him. Wanting to show that my quirk, my power, was always gonna be better than whatever type of technology or weapon he can build. But Izuku was persistent. He never gave up building, inventing, thinking. He never gave up trying to be a hero." Until now, that is.

"And...it's because of me that he finally gave up his dream and became the villain that he is now." Katsuki ended, finally having to say his piece.

His parents were silent for a moment, taking in Katsuki's words until Masaru spoke up once more, his tone a little softer but still strict. "It's seems that you've finally realized what you did wrong. But that's not enough." He said before he began staring hardly at his son. "Tell us why we should lift your punishment and allow you to aim for U.A?"

The room was heavy with tension as Masaru's words hung in the air. Katsuki sat stiffly, his hands resting on his knees, clenched into fists. He knew this was coming, but the weight of his father's question still hit like a gut punch. He swallowed hard and lifted his head to meet Masaru's stern gaze.

"Because...I want to make it right," Katsuki said, his voice firm but laced with emotion. "I can't undo what I did. I can't go back in time and stop myself from being a total bastard to Izuku. But sitting here, doing nothing...that's not going to help anyone. Not me, not him, not anyone."

Mitsuki folded her arms, leaning back in her seat, her expression unreadable. "And you think aiming to attend U.A. is the answer?"

"It's a start," Katsuki replied quickly. "At least if I'm there, I can train. I can learn how to be the hero I should've been from the start. I need to be out there, doing something. I need to prove—to myself and everyone else—that I'm not the same person who made Izuku's life hell."

Masaru's eyes narrowed. "Prove it to who? To us? Or to Izuku?"

"To all of them," Katsuki said firmly. "But mostly to Izuku. I don't think he'll ever forgive me, but I owe it to him to try. I owe him the chance to see me trying to fix the mess I made of his life. And if that means attending U.A, starting from the bottom and earning everyone's trust from scratch, then fine. I'll do it."

Mitsuki tilted her head, studying him carefully. "And what if you don't get the chance to talk to Izuku? What if he's too far gone?"

Katsuki hesitated but then took a deep breath. "Then at least I'll know I tried. But I can't live with myself if I don't even try."

The room went quiet again, the weight of Katsuki's words settling over the three of them. Suddenly, Mistuki spoke up. "We'll have to think about this. Go to your room, Katsuki. We'll call you once we've made our decision."

A thick silence followed, the weight of his words settling over the room. Finally, Mitsuki let out a long sigh. "We'll think about it. Go to your room, Katsuki. We'll call you when we've made a decision."

Katsuki didn't argue. He rose silently and trudged upstairs, the tension in his chest only easing slightly. Sitting on his bed, he felt time crawl, every minute stretching into an eternity. When his mother finally called his name, he bolted to the living room where his parents waited.

Mitsuki and Masaru sat side by side, their expressions unreadable. For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Mitsuki broke the silence with another heavy sigh. "We've decided...we'll consider it."

Katsuki had never felt so relieved to hear his old hag speak. But he could tell that there was something more to it. "But if we let you aim for U.A., it's going to be on our terms."

Katsuki straightened, his jaw set. "Anything. Whatever it takes."

"You'll have to be under strict supervision," Masaru said, his tone firm. "We'll need to talk to Principal Nezu ourselves. He'll need to know your...history. If he agrees to take you, you'll have to work to earn his trust—and everyone else's."

Katsuki nodded, but gulped nervously.

"And if you screw this up," Mitsuki added, her tone sharp, "you're done. No second chances."

"Right. Got it." Katsuki nodded, accepting the conditions at hand. "I won't screw up."

The police station bustled with quiet activity as night fell, the soft hum of chatter and ringing phones filling the air. Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi sat at his desk, staring at the door with a mixture of anticipation and exasperation. He didn't have to wait long before the towering figure of All Might entered the room. His usual confident stride now slower and more subdued, his smile more strained and nervous under Tsukauchi's scrutinizing glare that All Might could tell says, 'I told you so.'

"So..." All Might started awkwardly, his voice small, like a kid who'd just been caught doing something stupid. "Where do you want me to start?" He cleared his throat and straightened up slightly, but the unease was clear. All Might, the hero who struck fear into villains everywhere, feared very few things. But one of them was his detective partner's wrath.

Tsukauchi didn't bother looking up from his paperwork. "I'm not talking to you." His voice was calm, but laced with an obvious frustration that All Might could feel in his bones.

"Ah...O-okay, that's cool," All Might stuttered, clearly unsure of how to navigate this. He shifted uncomfortably, glancing around the room. There was an awkward silence as he slowly took a seat in front of Tsukauchi's desk. After a moment, he finally spoke, unable to hold it in anymore. "You know what, what were you thinking, Toshi?!"

"...I might have underestimated how slippery that young boy could be," All Might admitted sheepishly.

"'Might've', Toshi?!" Tsukauchi exploded. His frustration was palpable—this was the very reason he'd insisted All Might take backup, but the bafoon had insisted on going alone. And look what it got him!

"Oh, and he hit my weak spot with some painful device." All Might added with a wince, the shame in his voice not fully palpable. "Now my time in buff mode might drop to two and a half hours...I think it might go even lower."

"He WHAT?!" Tsukauchi shot up from his chair, incredulous. That quirkless villain managed to hit the fatal weak spot of the revered symbol of peace? How could that possibly have happened?!

"I—I was just trying to help him, and he tricked me!" All Might protested, helplessly raising his hands in defense.

"Tricked you?!" Tsukauchi seethed, rubbing his temples. "You're telling me you, the Symbol of Peace, got fooled by a kid who hasn't even fully mastered his abilities yet?"

All Might raised his hands defensively. "I-I was trying to help him! I thought—"

"Yeah, that's the problem! You thought! You thought you could 'save' him with one heartfelt conversation, and look what it got you! A shrinking buff timer and a kid with even more of a grudge!"

All Might shrank slightly under the tirade. "Okay, I messed up, alright? But he was just so...resourceful."

Tsukauchi scoffed. "Resourceful? That's putting it lightly. He played you like a damn fiddle, Toshinori. He's quirkless, yet somehow, he's always ten steps ahead!"

All Might sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not proud of it, but I'll make it right. I've already talked to Recovery Girl about my injury—" He tried to lighten the situation by mentioning that he did went to get some help from Recover Girl after whom she, too, gave All Might quite the earful.

"Oh, good, because the public's definitely going to overlook the fact that our Symbol of Peace got outplayed by a quirkless teenager," Tsukauchi shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let me tell you, that's going to do wonders for morale."

All Might, still sheepish, gave a nervous laugh. "Well, you know...heroes can't always predict what happens next, right?" He said, trying to save face.

Tsukauchi threw his hands up in exasperation. "We're supposed to! Predicting anything in this situation would've been a luxury, All Might! Now we're stuck with an even more pissed off villain, who doesn't even have a quirk, mind you, who wrecked a hospital, a growing disillusionment with the public about how we haven't captured the quirkless villain yet, and worst of all, your fatal injury just got more fatal!"

"Okay, okay, I get it!" All Might waved his hands defensively. "You're right. I messed up. But I tried my best, alright? I...I really thought I could reach him..."

Tsukauchi sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "You and your savior complex. Honestly, it's like dealing with a big, golden puppy sometimes."

All Might's face flushed slightly, but he managed a half-grin. "I am the Symbol of Peace, after all. I can't help it."

Tsukauchi scoffed, muttering under his breath, "Maybe the symbol of getting tricked."

All Might just stared at him, a sheepish chuckle escaping. "I'll admit, Tsukauchi...it wasn't my brightest moment."

"No kidding," Tsukauchi muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched as if he was trying to suppress a smile. "Look, just...just don't do that again, alright? For the sake of my sanity."

"Yeah, yeah, I won't," All Might replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll leave the tricky cases to you next time, Detective."

Tsukauchi let out a loud sigh, leaning back in his chair. He eyed All Might, now half amused, half exasperated. "You better. Because if we get another case like that, I'm going to make sure you retire." Tsukauchi let out a low laugh, shaking his head. "I don't know if I'll ever trust you again." He said, causing All Might to chuckle nervously.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I've been very stressed these past few months." The detective said, exasperated.

"...Sorry." All Might had to say. He was then met with Tsukauchi's light glare.

The detective cleared his throat and began getting into the more serious matter now that he finally gave All Might a much needed scolding. "Anyway, enough about you. Let's get to the real issue here. The kid's targeted hospitals, which doesn't seem right. A hospital doesn't exactly fit his MO."

All Might's brow furrowed as he recomposed himself. "You're right. It doesn't make sense. He's been hitting places tied to personal grudges or strategic benefits—schools, hero agencies, banks." he held his chin in contemplation. "What could he possibly want from a hospital?"

"Exactly," Tsukauchi said, leaning forward. "He specifically asked for Dr. Kyudai Garaki. Witnesses heard him shout the name. And when Garaki tried to play dumb, Deku accused him of stealing something."

All Might's eyes narrowed. "Stealing something? From him? What could Garaki have taken?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Tsukauchi muttered, rubbing his temples. "Garaki's background checks out—on paper, at least. He's a respected doctor, no known ties to anything shady. But why would Deku target him if there wasn't something there?"

"You think there's more to him than meets the eye?" All Might asked, his tone grave.

"I'd bet my badge on it," Tsukauchi replied. "And here's the kicker—Jakku Hospital has restricted areas that aren't on any official blueprints. We're running a deeper investigation, but if what Deku implied is true..."

"...then Garaki might be involved in something bigger," All Might finished, his voice low.

Tsukauchi nodded grimly. "This isn't just about a hospital attack. This could blow the lid off something much larger. And I'm worried that whatever it is, Deku knows more than we do."

All Might's gaze hardened. "Then we need to figure it out before he makes his next move. Whatever's going on, we can't let it spiral out of control." As much as he feared, he can't rule out the possibility of him still being alive which are the vibes this case was giving him.

"Agreed," Tsukauchi said. "But next time, Toshinori...you're not going in alone. Not again."

All Might gave a small, rueful smile. "Point taken, old friend. Point taken."

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting fiery streaks of orange and gold through the trees of a dense, secluded forest. Explosions echoed intermittently, accompanied by the sharp crackle of splintering wood and the occasional frustrated growl.

Katsuki Bakugou stood in the clearing, his palms smoking from the barrage of controlled blasts he had unleashed moments ago. His chest heaved as he sucked in gulps of air, sweat dripping down his brow. Katsuki had been training his quirk in this random, close by forsest for a few days after his parents had allowed him to aim for U.A once again.

Training his quirk to be stronger, perfecting his techniques, and even being more cautious of what kind of explosion he's going to make, going beyond plus ultra. But as the days wore on, a frustrating truth began to creep into Katsuki's mind—he wasn't improving the way he wanted.

He stood in the clearing, panting as smoke rose from the aftermath of his latest attack. His explosions were strong, his mobility sharp, but it still felt...insufficient. Like there was something he was missing.

He panted, glaring at a splintered stump that had once been a sturdy tree. The force of his explosions had shredded it, scattering fragments across the clearing. Yet, instead of satisfaction, he felt only emptiness.

"Damn it," he muttered, his voice low and venomous. Sure, his use of his explosions had gotten better, but he felt as something was wrong, missing. As much as he wanted to believe it, the nagging thought wouldn't leave him alone. He hated to admit it, even to himself, but he needed guidance—someone who could really teach him how to be a true hero, someone who understood the fight better than he did.

He needed some damn help.

That's right, the Katsuki Bakugou needed some help.

How times have changed.

But the question is who? Who could he ask for help? He supposes that was the thing he needed to figure out.

The late afternoon sun bathed the city streets in warm orange light as Katsuki trudged home, a bag of groceries swinging at his side. The sounds of distant traffic and murmured conversations filled the air, but Katsuki was lost in his thoughts.

"If I'm not getting anywhere on my own, then what the hell am I supposed to do? Who the fuck am I supposed to ask for help?" He growled under his breath.

As he turned into a wide alleyway, Katsuki's instincts immediately sharpened as he noticed a figure drop from the rooftop above, landing heavily a few meters in front of him.

The man, a wiry villain with wild eyes and claw-like fingers, sneered as he took a step forward and set his eyes on Katsuki. His clothes were tattered, and he reeked of desperation. Katsuki's grip on the grocery bag tightened as his other hand ignited with a faint spark.

"Stay back, you freak!" Katsuki warned, his voice low and dangerous.

But the villain only grinned wider, his gaze darting behind him as though he was being pursued. "Not a chance, kid. I need a shield, and you'll do just fine."

The villain lunged toward Katsuki, his clawed hand outstretched, but before he could close the distance, a blur of motion descended from above.

CRACK!

The villain was slammed into the ground with enough force to rattle the pavement. Katsuki blinked, caught off guard, as a pair of powerful legs pinned the man to the concrete.

Standing atop the subdued villain was none other than Rumi Usagiyama, the Rabbit Hero: Mirko. Her white hair gleamed in the sunlight as her red eyes locked onto Katsuki. She barely spared him a glance before securing the villain with a pair of cuffs.

"Out cold already, huh, villain?" She muttered, smirking at the unconscious criminal. "You lot really are getting weaker!"

Mirko turned her head toward the surprised Katsuki. "You alright there, kid?"

Katsuki looked at her, a not unsure. "Yeah...I am." He simply said.

Miko shrugged as she put the villain on her shoulder. "Alright, then if that's the case, I gotta put away this villain now. Don't go snoopin' around suspicous alleyways, blondie!" She advised but before she could hop away, Katsuki had called her out, stopping her in her tracks.

"Wait, STOP!"

Mirko looked at Katsuki, a bit annoyed. "What is it, kid? I gotta put this guy away and have more villain asses to kick!"

 "Please, just...hear me out!" Katsuki insisted, his tone genuine.

Mirko's lips went thin as she looked at Katsuki uncertainly. Although reluctant, she set the unconscious villain aside and chose to hear the young boy out. "Make it quick, kid." She said.

Katsuki took a deep breath and her a profound question. A question he's been wondering for quite some time.

"What does it mean to be a hero?"

Mirko raised a brow at that obvious, yet complicated question. "Kickin' villains ass and taking names? Making the public feel safe?" She answered rather offhandedly.

Katsuki frowned, unsatisfied. "Yeah, but...isn't it more than that? Like, how do you get strong enough to do all that? Strong enough to really be...better? I don't fucking know how to say this..." He muttered. It was clear that he was new to this.

Mirko's smirk returned as she looked him up and down, her sharp gaze piercing. "What's this really about, blondie? You feeling weak or somethin'?"

Katsuki stiffened. "No! I just—damn it!" He stomped a foot in frustration. "I've been training every damn day, but it's not enough! I feel like I ain't going anywhere and that I need to be...better. I don't know how the fuck to say it and you're one of the best heroes out there. So, I thought...maybe you could...help me." He confessed, almost begging. It was clear that he was lost.

Mirko looked at him, almost pitifully, wondering whether if there was a single confident and self-respecting bone in his body since she found his begging to be a little unpleasant. She's not quite the fan of those type of guys that wallow. "What's your name, blondie?" She asked first.

Katsuki hesitated for a moment, unsure of where this was going. "It's...Katsuki Bakugou," he finally said, his tone uncertain.

"Bakugou, huh?" Mirko repeated, tapping her chin mockingly. "You really don't look like the type to beg."

Katsuki's face turned bright red, the veins in his forehead practically pulsing. "Wha—?! I'm not begging! I'm asking! There's a difference!"

Mirko raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Oh, yeah? Sure sounds like begging to me, Sparky."

Her words hit Katsuki like a slap to the face. He gritted his teeth, barely holding back the explosion of anger bubbling in his chest. "You're full of shit, Rabbit Lady!"

But Mirko didn't stop. She smirked wider, clearly enjoying herself, and leaned in slightly. "Y'know, you're sure acting like a puppy with its tail between its legs. Heroes don't wallow, kid. They act."

Katsuki clenched his fists, his palms starting to sizzle with tiny sparks. "I'm not wallowing! And stop acting like you know anything about me!"

Much to Katsuki's own confusion and frustration, she began to taunt him more and more, a certain glint in his eyes began to show, causing her to grin. All the while, Katsuki was wondering what she was gaining from this by mocking him. Was she trying to motivate him or something? Sure, Katsuki had become more calm lately and has learned to keep his anger and emotion in check, but that doesn't mean that he can tolerate much more disrespect. It's like this woman was trying to make Katsuki go back on his bad habits...!

"Oh, but I do," Mirko shot back, her grin turning sharper. "You've got that look in your eyes—the one that says you're trying to claw your way out of the pit you fell into. But here's the thing, Sparky: clawing won't do you any good if you're too scared to actually bite."

Her taunts continued, cutting deeper with each word. Katsuki, already wound tight, felt like he was about to explode—literally and figuratively.

Finally, Mirko delivered the final blow. "You really wanna be a hero? Tch. I've never seen an 'aspiring' hero look so damn cowardly."

With that, Katsuki glared at the rabbit hero with as much anger and determination he could muster.

Mirko grinned in satisfaction. There it is.

Without missing a beat, she dropped into a fighting stance, her powerful legs tensing like coiled springs. She raised a hand, gesturing for him to come at her with a beckoning flick of her fingers. "Alright, kid. If you're serious, then prove it. Give me your best shot, Sparky!"

Katsuki didn't need to be told twice. He shoved his grocery bag to the side, his palms igniting with energy. "You're gonna regret that, Rabbit Lady!"

With a roar, he launched himself forward, his explosions propelling him like a rocket. The narrow alley lit up with bursts of light and heat as Katsuki closed the gap between them.

Mirko grinned. This was going to be fun.

The alley lit up with the sharp bursts of Katsuki's explosions as he clashed with Mirko. She dodged and countered with ease, her movements fluid and precise. Katsuki's attacks were relentless, but Mirko was faster, always one step ahead.

"C'mon, Sparky! Is that all you've got?" she taunted, dodging another blast with a graceful leap.

"SHUT UP!" Katsuki roared, his palms flaring as he unleashed a powerful explosion that scorched the ground. Mirko landed behind him, her grin wider than ever.

"You've got fight in you," she admitted, suddenly sweeping his legs out from under him. He hit the ground with a thud, glaring up at her as she planted a foot on his chest. "But you've got a long way to go if you want to keep up with me."

Katsuki scowled but didn't look away. Despite the sting of defeat, his eyes burned with determination.

Mirko laughed again, stepping off him and extending a hand to pull him up. "Alright, kid. You're not half bad. Here." She pulled a small piece of paper from her pocket, scribbled something on it, and handed it to him. "That's my number. Call me when you're ready to stop whining and start working."

Before he could respond, she grabbed the unconscious villain and leapt out of the alleyway in one fluid motion.

Katsuki stared at the paper in his hand, his thoughts a chaotic swirl.

"What the fuck just happened?!" He sputtered, glancing at the groceries he'd left on the ground.

Tomura Shigaraki loomed over the frost-covered form of Dr. Garaki, watching Kurogiri carefully chip away at the icy prison. The room was eerily silent, save for the soft scrape of metal against ice and Shigaraki's nails clawing at his neck in frustration.

His irritation was palpable, his muttering incoherent but laced with venom. "That damn Deku," he hissed under his breath, his voice cracking. "Destroyed the Jakku base, ruined everything..." Suddenly, the TV screen beside him lit up and a voice spoke.

It was his master. And he sounder more...strained which caught Shigaraki off guard. Was his master...angry?

"It appears we underestimated Midoriya," the voice began, cold and deliberate. "His proficiency, his ferocity... He reacted far more effectively than we had anticipated."

Shigaraki's hand froze mid-scratch. "I'm sorry, master," he said, his voice low and regretful. "I shouldn't have threatened him by showing him his captured minion."

"This is a regrettable set back, Tomura, I must admit." The voice continued. "But we must not dwell on failure. Fortunately, Kurogiri acted swiftly, saving Dr. Garaki and as many Nomu as he could. The work is not all lost."

Shigaraki glanced around the room. Half of the bar was now occupied by the grotesque forms of all kinds of Nomu, their lifeless eyes gleaming faintly under the dim lights of the bar. The sight eased some of his frustration.

"I won't let him win again," Shigaraki said, his voice filled with venom.

"No," the voice replied, darker now. "You won't. But this setback must teach you something, Tomura. Strength alone is insufficient. Strategy, patience, adaptability—these are the tools of true dominance."

Shigaraki's lips curled into a grin beneath his hand-mask, his fingers twitching with anticipation. "I'll crush him. Next time, he won't have a chance."

"Good," The voice said. "But in case you need assistance, I want to lend you something. Kurogiri."

The misty butler opened up a small portal on top of the bar table and a small, cylinder needle had appeared. "This, Tomura, is the PX-41 serum."

Shigaraki's red eyes gleamed with curiosity as he reached for the cylinder needle resting on the bar table. "What is this?" he asked, his voice a mix of intrigue and suspicion as he observed the ominous purple liquid inside.

The voice deepened with satisfaction. "A marvel of research. The PX-41 serum enhances physical and mental attributes to monstrous levels—at a cost, of course. It amplifies rage and aggression, stripping away the limitations of fear, hesitation, and even pain. A tool for those who truly seek destruction without restraint. It is, in your video game terms, a character buff and it will make it's host pretty much invincible."

Shigaraki was absolutely stunned. He had no idea that such power existed. Shigaraki's grip on the serum tightened, his lips curling into a devious smirk beneath his mask. "Sounds like something Deku or those pro heroes won't be able to handle."

"Indeed," The voice replied. "But use it wisely, Tomura. It is not a cure-all nor a substitute for your own growth. Consider it...a temporary edge, should you find yourself cornered."

Kurogiri stepped forward, his misty form swirling with purpose. "Shall I store it for safekeeping, Tomura Shigaraki?"

Shigaraki shook his head, his grin widening as he held the serum aloft. "No, I'll keep it. I don't plan on needing a 'backup,' but if it'll help me crush that damn nerd, I'll use it."

He turned to the screen once again, his tone sharp. "But tell me, master...Is this another one of Garaki's experiments?"

"It will surprise you, but no. It is not one of Dr. Garaki's experiments." The voice answered, surprising both Shigaraki and Kurogiri.

"I do not want to be privy, master, but I must wonder; where did you get it?" Kurogiri asked.

"I have my connections." The voice firmly stated, indicating that this was not a matter he would want them to get nosy in.

Kurogiri's mist swirled uneasily as he processed his master's cryptic response. Shigaraki's fingers tapped the glass of the PX-41 serum, his curiosity piqued but his irritation simmering just beneath the surface.

"Connections?" Shigaraki repeated, his tone laced with skepticism. "You're telling me someone out there is handing out weapons like this and we're only hearing about it now?"

The voice was calm but carried an edge that silenced the room. "I reveal what is necessary, Tomura. The PX-41 serum was acquired from a...unique source. An associate of mine whose loyalty lies in shadows beyond even our reach. It was gifted to me with a warning: its power is immense, but its consequences are...unpredictable."

Shigaraki's crimson eyes narrowed as he glanced down at the vial in his hand. "Unpredictable how?"

"Prolonged exposure can deteriorate the user's sense of self, driving them to act on pure instinct and rage," The voice explained. "A true weapon of chaos. Wield it with care, Tomura,

"Well, thankfully we have the Nomu for that." Shigaraki said.

"Indeed." The voice softened slightly, though the underlying authority remained. "Good. Remember, Tomura, you are my successor, and the symbol of destruction. But even the strongest hand must play its cards wisely."

Shigaraki stepped back from the screen, his smirk returning. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. Patience, strategy, blah blah blah. Don't worry, Master. I'll play my hand when the time's right—and when I do, I'll make sure Deku and every hero who's ever crossed me regret everything."

Laughter from the screen echoed through the room, low and ominous. "That's what I like to hear."

As the screen went dark, Shigaraki turned toward Kurogiri, his mood sharp and resolute. "Let's get Garaki thawed out and back to work. I'm not waiting around for another setback."

Kurogiri bowed slightly, his mist swirling as he resumed his task. "As you wish, Tomura Shigaraki."

Weeks passed, and Katsuki Bakugou found himself grappling with an entirely new challenge: surviving Mirko's relentless mentorship. To her credit, she was a solid teacher—her quirk-training methods were brutally effective, her insights into the basic core values about heroism were practical and grounded, and her ability to motivate him by tearing him down was...unique, to say the least.

But there was something about her that made him uneasy. It wasn't fear, and it wasn't exactly irritation either. It was...complicated.

Katsuki watched as Mirko dismantled an old training dummy with a single, devastating kick, her laughter echoing through the training ground. "C'mon, Sparky! You can't tell me you're tired already!" she called out, her smirk wide and taunting.

Panting and sweat dripping down his face, Katsuki scowled at her. "Shut up! I'm not tired!" he snapped, his palms sparking as he forced himself back to his feet.

"Good! 'Cause you're not allowed to quit until you've landed a clean hit on me!" she teased, her tone equal parts challenging and playful.

He gritted his teeth and lunged at her, launching an explosive attack that she dodged effortlessly, leaping high into the air and landing gracefully behind him.

"Too slow, blondie!" she jeered, her red eyes gleaming with amusement.

As the training sessions continued, Katsuki couldn't help but notice something unsettling. Mirko's brash, overly competitive nature, her cocky grin, her unshakable confidence—it was like looking into a warped mirror. Katsuki would witness Mirko's brash and overly-competitive behavior, aggressiveness, and arrogance and he would be thinking, 'Is that how I used to be? Is this how other people really think of me?'

He couldn't shake the thought. Watching Mirko's unfiltered arrogance, her aggressive approach to everything, her tendency to barrel through problems with brute force—it was like she was a living embodiment of everything he hated about how people used to see him. And maybe still did.

Katsuki wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, his chest heaving as he glared at Mirko. She stood a few meters away, arms crossed, looking completely unfazed. Her wide, teasing grin only made him angrier.

"You've got a death wish, Rabbit Lady," he growled, sparks crackling at his palms.

Mirko laughed, the sound sharp and carefree. "Oh, please, Blondie. If I had a yen for every time someone threatened me, I'd be lounging on a beach somewhere sipping carrot juice cocktails."

Katsuki's eye twitched. "You're not funny."

"Sure, I am," Mirko shot back, leaning against the shattered trunk of a tree. "You're just too uptight to get the joke. Seriously, Sparky, loosen up. If you keep grinding your teeth like that, you'll end up looking like Endeavor before his glow-up."

Katsuki's retort died in his throat, the image of himself with a permanent scowl flashing through his mind. He shook his head furiously, trying to banish the thought.

"I don't have time to loosen up!" he snapped. "I need to get stronger, faster. I need to—"

"Save the world?" Mirko interrupted, raising an eyebrow. "Be the number one hero? Prove to everyone that you're the best thing since All Might?" She tilted her head, her smirk softening slightly. "I get it, kid. I really do. Millions of other people out there in the world have the same goal."

But not the same motive that I have, Katsuki thought melancholy, remembering the things he did to Izuku.

Noticing this, Mirko looked at  Katsuki with a curious smirk. "What's the matter, Sparky? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Katsuki gritted his teeth, his palms sparking involuntarily. "I'm fine. Just wondering how someone as reckless as you hasn't gotten themselves killed yet."

Mirko burst out laughing, the sound echoing through the clearing. "Reckless? Kid, I'm the Rabbit Hero. Reckless is my middle name!" She threw a mock punch into the air. "You think all those villains I stomped into the dirt were asking for permission first? No, you gotta act before they do!"

Katsuki glared at her. "Yeah, but acting without thinking is just stupid. You're just lucky your legs are fast enough to bail you out when your brain can't keep up."

Mirko paused, her red eyes narrowing slightly before a grin spread across her face. "Oho! So you think I'm all muscle and no brains, huh? Alright then, smart guy. Let's hear it—what's your genius plan for beating me?"

Katsuki hesitated, caught off guard by the challenge. "Tch, I'll figure it out."

"Exactly," Mirko said, leaning down to poke him in the forehead with surprising force. "You'll figure it out when it counts. That's what heroes do. We don't get a perfect plan handed to us on a silver platter, blondie. We work with what we've got, and we adapt when the punches start flying—literally."

Katsuki blinked, her words sinking in despite her mocking tone. "Wait, are you actually giving me some decent advice right now?"

Mirko tilted her head, slightly. "I don't know. Am I? I'm just really saying whatever comes to my mind that I think is right." She answered with a nonchalant shrug.

The hidden underground base beneath Jakku Hospital was currently swarming with law enforcement and pro heroes, led by Detective Tsukauchi and All Might. The atmosphere was thick with tension as they sifted through the remnants of what had once been an active site for unspeakable experiments. What they found was nerve-wracking, even for seasoned professionals like them.

Cells lined the dimly lit hallways, eerily empty but brimming with a sense of foreboding. However, it was what lay beyond—a vast laboratory filled with tubes housing grotesque monstrosities—that sent shivers down their spines. Each tank contained variations of creatures that defied nature itself; limbs twisted unnaturally, eyes bulging in unnatural hues—each one a testament to the horrors crafted within these walls. And after looking through the lab's files, they found out that these things are called Nomus, created by Dr. Kyudai Garaki.

Speaking of, there was also one jarring thing: Dr. Garaki was nowhere to be found.

Detective Naomasa Tsukauchi's sharp eyes scanned the room, lingering on the abandoned notes, shattered equipment, and flickering monitors that still displayed cryptic data streams. "This is...something else," he muttered, his voice heavy with unease.

All Might, standing beside him, clenched his fists tightly. His eyes roamed over the tanks, his jaw tightening as he processed the horrific sights before him. "What...are these things?" he asked, his voice low but resonating with authority.

Tsukauchi shook his head. "I don't know. But judging by the equipment here and the condition of those things...whoever was behind this wasn't just experimenting. They were creating something...monsters."

As they examined the lab further, officers began retrieving files from the lab's computers. A forensic specialist approached, holding a tablet displaying the extracted data. "Detective Tsukauchi, sir, you're going to want to see this," the specialist said, their voice unsteady.

"What is it?" Tsukauchi asked, stepping closer.

The specialist hesitated before responding, their tone grave. "The creatures in these tanks—Nomus, as they've been labelled as—all of them each have multiple quirks implanted in them."

Both All Might and Tsukauchi widened their eyes.

Tsukauchi's face tightened. "Multiple quirks...?"

All Might's eyes narrowed, a cold dread creeping into his expression. "That's...not possible," he said, his voice trying to be firm but there was hint of disbelief in it.

The forensic specialist nodded grimly. "That's what we thought too, but the data doesn't lie. Whoever was behind this has found a way to artificially implant multiple quirks into these...beings."

Multiple quirks...? That shouldn't be possible. Unless...

Both All Might and Tsukauchi exchanged a tense glance, their minds racing as the implications of the discovery began to take shape.

They know only one man who is capable of such a thing.

All For One.

But...it's impossible! All Might clenched his fists, his teeth grinding as his mind fought against the realization. I defeated him. I made sure he was gone. For good...!

As much as he tried to deny it, the facts were all there and all he had to do was connect the dots. Dr. Garaki's involvement, these grotesque monsters called Nomus engineered to house multiple quirks, and the secrecy of this hidden lab beneath Jakku Hospital. It all pointed to one horrifying conclusion.

A conclusion he couldn't deny.

He is still alive.

In the end, the secret laboratory base hidden below Jakku hospital had been brought light, causing quite the stir for the public (especially for a certain quirk-stealing villain), and an APB had officially been sent out for Dr. Kyudai Garaki.

A few months later.

Izuku had a lot of things going on in his mind. Ever since the Gang Orca agency heist and his minion rescue, he had been feeling...lost.

Maybe he always had been.

Sure, robbing banks, breaking into hero agency building, all that was a heck of a lot of fun. It felt like a dangerous rollercoaster going in an infinite loop. It may be fun and scary for a while, but once you get used to it and a certain period of time passes, it can start to get a little...stale.

That's what Izuku felt like. Being in an infinite loop. Not having anything significant to work toward, even after garnering such a reputation.

So, to get his mind off of things, Deku started to do his usual bidding and robbed more banks like the one he's currently doing , even if he's starting to grow a fatigue of it.

"Let's hurry it up, boys," he called out, trying to shake off his malaise. "The faster we're done here, the faster we can—"

He stopped mid-sentence, his gaze narrowing as he noticed something ridiculous in the corner of his eye.

"Henry!" he barked, his voice sharp enough to make the offending minion freeze mid-motion.

Henry, holding a bundle of bananas, was juggling them with reckless abandon while balancing precariously on a pile of money bags. A small crowd of other minions had gathered around him, clapping and cheering as though he were a circus performer.

Izuku pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly as he tried to keep his composure. "What... are you doing?!"

"Ehhh....owlmas...?" Henry grinned sheepishly, continuing to juggle as if his performance needed no explanation.

"We're robbing a bank, Henry," Izuku said, his tone dripping with exasperation. "Not hosting a talent show! Put the bananas down, grab the money, and focus before—"

The sound of a deep, booming voice cut through the room like a knife.

"STOP RIGHT THERE!"

Izuku froze for a moment before turning toward the entrance, where flames licked at the edges of the bank's shattered glass doors. The imposing figure of Endeavor, Japan's No. 2 hero, strode inside, his fiery presence felt across the room.

The minions scattered, dropping bags of money and bananas alike, squealing as they dove for cover behind furniture and desks.

Izuku, however, stayed rooted in place, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. For a second, he was actually worried. Turns out it was only Endeavor! So, things are just gonna go as usual since Deku and Endeavor had a...unique relationship.

"Ah, Endeavor! Always a pleasure to see you again," Deku teased, giving a mock bow.

Endeavor's eyes burned with disdain, "Deku..." The flaming No. 2 hero said with as much disdain he could muster in his voice which didn't deter Deku in the slightest.

Izuku clapped his hands together in mock delight. "Oh, come on now, don't sound so grumpy. I'm sure this time will be different, right? Maybe this time you'll actually catch me!"

The vein in Endeavor's temple throbbed visibly, and the heat in the room intensified. "You've evaded me for months, brat. That ends today!"

"Sure, it will. Like it has been for the past, I don't know, seven months or so?" Izuku offhandedly retorted sarcastically with a smug grin. That's how long he's started this back and forth thing with Endeavor.

The tension in the air crackled, almost as much from the heat as from the clash of wills. Endeavor's hands ignited into blazing infernos, and Izuku's mind raced as he plotted his next move as he saw the flaming pro hero get into his battle stance.

"Minions!" Izuku called out, glancing over his shoulder. "Time to—"

He stopped when he saw several minions now using one of the office chairs as a makeshift racing cart, hurtling down the hall with the last precarious stacks of cash teetering on top.

Izuku's eye twitched. Well, at least they're finally following my instructions and getting out of harm's way...

Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to the towering figure of Endeavor, just in time to see the fiery hero charging straight at him.

"Oh, you're serious this time!" Izuku exclaimed, quickly activating the boosters in the soles of his shoes. Flames roared where he had been standing a moment before, but Izuku was already airborne, zipping across the bank lobby.

The jet propulsion system on his hands and small jetpack kicked in as he soared effortlessly above Endeavor, who was now glaring up at him with murderous intent. The gleaming tech was a recent upgrade, inspired by an old pre-quirk superhero movie he'd seen about a billionaire with a metal suit.

Izuku hovered near the ceiling, spreading his arms theatrically. "Not bad, Endeavor! I mean, you missed, but hey, you're getting warmer—literally." He smirked, feeling a bit proud of himself for that little pun.

Endeavor snarled, flames erupting from his fists as he launched a torrent of fire toward the quirkless villain. Izuku quickly pivoted mid-air, the boosters on his boots firing with precision as he zigzagged through the fiery onslaught.

"You know," Izuku called out as he flipped over a blazing column of fire, "I can't help but feel like you're trying too hard! You ever consider yoga? Might help with all that pent-up aggression!"

"Hold still, you little pest!" Endeavor roared, unleashing another fiery barrage that lit up the entire lobby.

Izuku dodged with a playful twirl, landing briefly on a marble pillar before leaping off again. "Ooh, good one! You almost got me that time. Almost."

Endeavor's patience was wearing thin. He surged forward, a fiery tackle aimed directly at Izuku. But Izuku calmly extended a device from his wrist—a grappling hook that fired toward the ceiling, pulling him up and out of range at the last second.

"Too slow, Enji!" Izuku called down, dangling from the grappling line like a mischievous spider. "Maybe you should take a break. Hydrate, maybe? I hear water does wonders for your skin!"

Endeavor growled, slamming his fist into a nearby desk, which erupted into flames. "Stop running and fight me!"

Izuku hovered above him, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Fight you? Huh, let me think about it..." He pretended to mull it over for a moment before grinning. "Nah, I think I like this better."

Seething, Endeavor stomped toward one of the minions still loitering behind a desk. The small yellow creature froze, holding up a banana like a peace offering. "Aca! Nupi ba!"

Endeavor raised an eyebrow, but before he could say anything, he was hit in the shoulder by a small, gooey projectile which seized the opportunity for the final minion to escape. He tried to remove it with his fingers which, too, then got stuck. He tried to burn it off, but that doesn't work too!

"What the-?!"

"What's wrong, Enji? Got yourself in a sticky situation?" Deku taunted, hovering above while holding one of his most recent inventions: The glue grenade launcher. A more adcanved looking grenade launched that shoots out projectiles of glue that is extremely hard to get off.

"You know, for the No. 2 hero, you sure are predictable, as you keep trying to use one of my minions as hostage. You know that's not gonna work, right?" Izuku teased, activating a small wrist-mounted laser to cut the chandelier's support. "Maybe take a page out of Hawks' book? He's a bit more...adaptable."

The chandelier crashed to the ground in front of Endeavor, who jumped back just in time. Flames roared to life around him again, his body a blazing inferno of frustration as he grunted in pain when he finally pulled his finger out his shoulder with as much strength that he could muster. "You think this is a game, Deku?!"

Izuku spread his arms in mock surrender, his grin unshakable. "Isn't it? You chase, I dodge, you try to catch me, I escape. Rinse and repeat. Honestly, it's getting a little old. But hey, I'm willing to keep playing if you are." Deku lied. Sure he may be getting tired of robbing banks, but humiliating the heroes? That will never get old!

With a roar, Endeavor launched himself into the air, flames propelling him upward with impressive speed, faster than usual. For a moment, Izuku's grin faltered as the hero closed the gap between them. But just as Endeavor reached him, Izuku activated a sudden burst from his jetpack, flipping above the flaming hero and fired a small missile from his shoulder cannon that formed from his jetpack, sending Endeavor exploding toward the ground.

Seizing the opportunity, Izuku quickly fired a barrage of his glue grenade projectiles until the No. 2 pro hero was completely stuck in the ground. Izuku landed in front of Endeavor who was desperately thrashing around, trying to escape but to no avail.

Izuku descended, landing gracefully in front of the immobilized hero. Taking a knee, he tilted his head, his green eyes sparkling with amusement as he met Endeavor's furious glare.

"Try as you might, but you're not getting out of this one," Izuku said casually, inspecting the hero's restrained form. "This glue is designed to withstand insane levels of force and heat. It'll take an entire team to free just one of your limbs."

Endeavor grunted, his body heating up as he attempted to incinerate the glue with a surge of power. The air around him shimmered with the intensity of the heat. Izuku raised an impressed eyebrow, leaning back slightly.

"Whoa, trying to burn the whole building down just to escape? I'll admit, that's some serious determination." He smirked, jerking a thumb toward the office room. "But I'd think twice if I were you. Wouldn't want to roast all those hostages, now would you?"

Endeavor's flames faltered as his eyes widened. His head turned sharply toward the office, where civilians cowered behind a reinforced door.

The flaming hero grit his teeth in anger. "Backup is going to arrive any second! Soon we'll catch you!"

Izuku stood, brushing imaginary dust off his knees as he gestured toward all the bank's doors that are closing by itself. "Oh, I know. That's why I used the bank's own security system against them. Those defense walls? Indestructible. It's going to take them ages to hack through or blast their way in." He turned on his heel, striding toward the exit. "Which gives me just enough time to make my grand exit. So, thanks for the fun, Enji!"

Endeavor thrashed against the glue, his rage boiling over as Izuku's footsteps echoed across the marble. "Damnit! Get back here, Deku!!!"

"It was another nice roundabout we had. See ya~!"

"DEKUUUU!!!"

By now, Izuku had escaped and long gone from the bank as he hid in a random alleyway wearing his disguise just in case. All her wore was a bowler hat, sunglasses, and a fake moustache. You would be surprised to see how well it actually worked when he's out in the crowded open.

Pulling out his phone, Izuku opened the encrypted app he’d designed to communicate with his minions. “Alright, boys,” he said quietly, his tone sharp but measured. “Get back to base with the loot. Use the getaway vehicle’s camouflage system and, for the love of everything, don’t draw attention to yourselves.”

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And Henry, don't throw up in the compartment again.”

A chorus of cheerful minion gibberish crackled through the phone’s speaker, followed by sounds of loud crashes, revving engines, and maniacal laughter of his minions. Izuku groaned, ending the call.

“Why do I even bother?” he muttered to himself. Still, he reassured himself with the strange, unwavering faith he had in his minions’ unorthodox logic. Somehow, no matter how chaotic their methods, they always managed to escape—though often by the skin of their teeth.

Adjusting his bowler hat, Izuku strolled down the alley, his thoughts turning inward. As his mind wandered, he didn’t notice the shadow of a figure approaching from the opposite direction.

The collision was sudden. Izuku stumbled back, his sunglasses and hat clattering to the ground while his fake mustache dangled precariously from his lip before fluttering to the pavement.

“Ah, sorry about that—” Izuku began, brushing himself off. But his words trailed off as he looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly in recognition.

Standing before him, equally stunned, was someone Izuku hadn’t seen in years. Tsubasa. The chubby boy with red wings who had once been one of Katsuki’s cronies. And by the looks of it, he too, is surprised to see Deku.

“I-...Izuku?!” Tsubasa stammered, his voice a mixture of shock and confusion.

Izuku blinked, tilting his head slightly as if piecing together a distant memory. “Huh?” he muttered, before realization dawned on him. His expression flattened, his tone shifting to one of quiet disdain. “Ah. It’s you.”

Tsubasa hesitated, his wings twitching nervously. His eyes darted around, scanning for any signs of escape or backup. It was understandable; Izuku wasn’t just any face from the past. He was one of Japan’s most talked-about villains, his name trending after every successful heist. And now, here he was, standing just a few feet away.

“W-Wait a second,” Tsubasa stuttered, taking a shaky step back. “You’re...You’re Deku! I mean, everyone’s talking about you! What are you even doing here?!”

Izuku adjusted his hat, sighing as if the situation were nothing more than a mild inconvenience. “I could ask you the same thing,” he replied, his voice calm but carrying a subtle edge. “But I don’t think it really matters. What matters is that you saw me.”

Tsubasa froze, his face paling as the implications sank in.

Izuku’s lips curled into a faint, unsettling smile. “And we can’t have that, can we?”

Tsubasa’s wings flared instinctively, as though preparing for flight. “L-Look, I won’t say anything, I swear! Just—just let me go!”

Izuku chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Oh, Tsubasa. You were never good at bluffing. But don’t worry; I won’t make this quick. After all, it’s not every day you get to catch up with an old ‘friend.’”

He took a slow step forward, relishing the fear in Tsubasa’s eyes. But before he could make his move, a thought crossed his mind—a question he couldn’t resist asking.

“Actually,” Izuku said, stopping in his tracks. “Before we get to that, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask. How’s Katsuki?”

Tsubasa blinked, startled by the sudden shift in tone. “K-Kacchan?”

Izuku nodded, his expression unreadable. “Yeah. You know, your fearless leader? The ‘hero’ who thought he was better than everyone else?” His voice carried a mocking edge. “I assume he’s doing great. Living the dream. But I want to hear it from you. How’s he holding up these days?”

The question wasn’t out of concern—not in the slightest. Izuku didn’t care about Katsuki’s well-being. He wanted to know if Katsuki was suffering. If he realized the role he had played in creating the villain standing before Tsubasa now.

Tsubasa hesitated, his wings drooping slightly as he scratched the back of his head. “Uh... well...”

“Spit it out,” Izuku snapped, his patience waning.

“Y-Yeah,” Tsubasa stammered. “Katsuki’s, uh... He’s aiming for U.A.”

Izuku’s eyes widened, his entire body going rigid.

“WHAT?!” he exclaimed, his voice echoing through the alley.

Tsubasa flinched, raising his hands defensively. “Y-Yeah! I swear! During our last conversation—before we all went to different schools—you know, after you, uh... blew it up... He told me he was still aiming for U.A. Said he wasn’t going to let anything stop him.”

Izuku’s hands clenched into fists, his entire frame trembling with barely-contained rage. That bastard... Even after everything Katsuki had done to him, after driving him to the brink and beyond, he still had the audacity to aim for U.A.?! To pursue his dream like nothing had happened...?! Unbelievable!

“I-Izu—” Tsubasa began, trying to say something—anything—to defuse the situation.

“Shut up!” Izuku barked, cutting him off.

*PIOOM!"

In an instant, Izuku raised his freeze ray and fired, the blue beam hitting Tsubasa square in the chest. Ice spread rapidly across his body, encasing him from head to toe in a solid block.

Izuku stood there for a moment, his breathing heavy as he stared at the frozen form of his former bully. His lips curled into a cold smirk as he leaned in slightly, his voice a chilling whisper.

“You know,” he said, tapping the block of ice with his finger, “for someone with wings, you really didn’t think about flying away, did you?”

Straightening his posture, Izuku adjusted his hat and sunglasses, his expression hardening. “Oh well. At least, one less loose end to worry about.”

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving the frozen Tsubasa behind in the shadowed alley. And although Izuku did feel a euphoric satisfaction with silencing one of his former bullies, he still was in utter outrage by what Tsubasa revealed to him.

"I can't believe this!" he growled under his breath, stomping with each step.

The audacity. The sheer gall.

After everything Katsuki had done to him—after shoving him into the depths of despair, after mocking and belittling him for years—Katsuki Bakugo had the nerve to keep chasing his dream. Like nothing had happened.

Izuku’s breathing quickened as his thoughts spiraled. “That bastard,” he hissed, his voice low and venomous.

He stopped walking, leaning back against the cold brick wall of the alley as he forced himself to take deep breaths. To ease his mind, Izuku thought about another topic thought back to what motivated him to be a villain in the first place.

Izuku recalled the moment he gave his big speech to his minions when he officially transitioned his life from being a quirkless punching bag, to an ambitious villain.

That's right! He wanted to be despicable!

A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he opened his eyes, pushing off the wall. But for all the grand ideas he had, the past few months had been filled with trial and error, trying to figure out what being despicable truly meant. Sure, he’d pulled off daring heists and taunted heroes to their breaking points. But something was missing. Something that would set him apart.

How do I leave my mark?

Izuku didn’t want to be remembered as just another run-of-the-mill villain. He wanted to be unforgettable. Impactful. The kind of villain who would force hero society to question its own integrity, the way the Hero Killer: Stain had.

For weeks, he’d struggled to pinpoint a motive, a goal that could resonate with people and send shockwaves through the world. But nothing felt quite right.

Then, as if sparked by the memory, another thought crept into his mind—a story Mr. Perkins had told him recently.

Izuku grinned faintly as he remembered it. Mr. Perkins had been recounting one of his son’s greatest feats—a crime so absurd, so outlandish, that Izuku couldn’t help but be blown away.

Vector. The man had stolen the pyramid.

Even now, the sheer audacity of it made Izuku’s mind race with questions. How had he pulled it off without anyone noticing? Where had he even hidden it? And most importantly... why had he done it?

When Izuku had asked, Mr. Perkins’ answer had caught him completely off guard.

He didn't even have a goal or motive! He just did it just because!

That answer had stayed with Izuku, nagging at the edges of his thoughts. At first, it sounded ridiculous—how could someone commit such a monumental crime without any reason? But the more he thought about it, the more it intrigued him.

Maybe...just maybe...that was the point.

And that really got Izuku thinking. Maybe he can make an impact in this world in a different way by being what he now aimed to be: The greatest villain ever!

It wasn’t about motives or justifications. It wasn’t about making a statement or proving something. It was about being despicable—the sheer audacity, creativity, and flair of it all.

Izuku’s grin widened, a spark igniting in his eyes.

He had finally found what he was going to do!

Straightening his hat and adjusting his sunglasses, Izuku stepped out of the alley, blending seamlessly into the bustling crowd. A thousand ideas began swirling in his mind, each more outrageous than the last. He didn’t need society’s approval or validation. He didn’t need a grand motive to shake the world.

All he needed was to embrace what he had become.

A villain.

A despicable one.

And he couldn’t wait to show the world just how far he could go. He's ready to do whatever it takes to be the greatest villain of all time!

Meanwhile, in the Todoroki household, Shoto sat cross-legged on the couch, remote in hand, as he watched the news report yet another humiliating failure by his father, the No. 2 Pro Hero, Endeavor.

On the screen, headlines blared: “Deku Escapes Yet Again! The Quirkless Villain Continues to Elude Capture from the No. 2 hero!” Accompanied by dramatic footage of Endeavor storming out of a bank, covered in what appeared to be glue and visibly fuming.

For once, Shoto’s stoic face broke into a rare smile.

At first, Shoto admittedly didn't expect much from Deku when he first heard of him. And especially after learning that he was quirkless and as young as him, which was initially a shock, made him think that time will pass and that it wasn't gonna be long that he'll get caught. Boy, was he wrong.

More and more news came in about Deku breaking into hero agencies, outsmarting and outwitting pro heroes, breaking into banks, and many more after his unofficial 'villain debut' of blowing up his middle school.

But by far the most shocking news was his most recent one being his encounter with the Symbol Of Peace himself. And although their confrontation remains unclear to the public, rumors circulated around that Deku had actually managed to land a fatal hit on the No. 1 hero and escaped. Even if the former wasn't true, the fact that he managed to escape the clutches of All Might himself was worthy enough feat of it's own.

And with that, Deku's popularity from being a mundane, run-of-the-mill villain quickly shot up to being a considerable high-level threat if he's managed to (allegedly) land a blow and escape from the No. 1 hero, himself.

The sound of the front door opening pulled Shoto from his thoughts. Fuyumi stepped inside, carrying her bag from her teaching job.

“I’m home, Shoto!” she called, her voice light and cheerful.

“Hello, Sis,” Shoto replied, his tone neutral as he glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to the TV.

“AAAAARGH!”

Before they could continue the conversation, a loud, guttural scream echoed from down the hall, followed by the unmistakable crash of something heavy being thrown.

Fuyumi followed Shoto’s gaze to the news report, immediately piecing together the situation.

“Deku again?” she asked.

Shoto nodded.

“Ah, I see,” Fuyumi said, setting her bag down. Her tone carried equal parts exasperation and understanding.

Another thing that's got Shoto hooked onto Deku was this interesting dynamic that's had with his father. Shoto has heard of those type of joke villain in media and in real life that's not much of a threat and the heroes and everyone else treating it as such. But he has never seen it be the other way around where the villain is treating the hero as the punchline! Deku had flipped the script entirely, treating Endeavor as his joke.

It started when Izuku escaped Endeavor by just straight up talking since he knew that he couldn't physically beat the No. 2 hero. But after that Deku got more dramatic and presentative with how he's treating Endeavor. Even the gadgets he used against the flaming hero got more ridiculous. He wasn’t just trying to evade capture; he was actively trolling the No. 2 hero.

It was like they were having their own Tom and Jerry thing.

The internet agreed. Video compilations of Deku trolling Endeavor had gone viral, with titles like:

'Deku escaping Endeavor compilation part 4'

'Deku being a hilarious troll to Endeavor for 13 minutes straight.'

'All the times Endeavor fails to catch Deku (and loses his mind.)'

Among many more, these were the video compilations that Shoto would watch joyously when his father gave him his free time.

One of his favorite moments of Deku trolling his father was during his birthday when Deku gave his agency building a little 'gift'. Deku had littered the agency building with small banana-shaped bombs. When they detonated, they filled the building with an odor so foul it was described as “indescribable”—a mix between rotten fruit and a public restroom after Taco Tuesday.

They knew it was Deku since he left a little message written on Endeavor's office desk, 'Happy birthday, Enji! - Deku.'

It was attached to another small banana fart bomb which also exploded in Enji's face.

And since about half of everyone in Endeavor's agency was made of fire, it didn't take long for the smell to intensify and spread.

The smell took an entire day to be cleared out.

Even just thinking about that scandal brought a smile to Shoto's face. It was that among many more trolls that Deku pulled on his father that made Shoto's days better.

And without realizing it, he has now become Deku's number one fan. Even if it's wrong to be supporting a villain, Shoto simply didn't care as long as he could keep seeing his father be treated like this. Deku’s antics made living under Endeavor’s oppressive shadow just a little more bearable.

And the best part? Deku wasn’t just embarrassing Endeavor; he was shaming him. Shoto knew that that was a huge blow to his father's pride. Being the No. 2 Pro Hero and having be defeated by someone who doesn't even have a quirk brought unbearable shame upon him and Shoto was all here for it!

“AAAAARGH!” came another frustrated yell from Endeavor’s room, followed by what sounded like the shattering of glass.

Once, that sound would’ve made Shoto flinch. Now, it was music to his ears.

A small, satisfied smirk tugged upon Shoto's lips as he leaned back on the couch. His home life might be bad, but watching his father throw a man-sized temper tantrum (mantrum?) after being humiliated by Deku for the umpteenth time?...It helps a little.

Chapter Text

Two months later

A middle school classroom was lively with chatter and laughter, students bouncing between desks and sharing stories from the weekend. Katsuki Bakugo sat near the back, his chin propped on his hand as he stared out the window, tuning it all out.

It wasn't like him to keep quiet, to blend into the background. But these days, that's all he wanted.

This school wasn't permanent. It was a pit stop—a holding place until he got into U.A. High. Because, you know, his last school was blown up and he was stuck with being in witness protection for a long while. Coupled with the difficulties of adjusting and applying to a new school entirely was a time-consuming process so he didn't get to go to school for a few months.

Anyways, he didn't need to make friends, didn't need to get attached to anyone. They were just extras, after all. Or that's what he kept telling himself. Katsuki bristles, telling himself that really needs to stop referring to strangers as extras if he wanted to be a better person and better future hero. But old habits truly die hard, don't they?

Deep down, Katsuki knew it wasn't just about keeping his distance from everyone.

I don't deserve it, he thought bitterly, his jaw tightening as he thought about what happened between him and Izuku.

It wasn't guilt, not entirely. It was something darker, heavier—a disgust directed inward. Katsuki had always thought of himself as strong, someone destined to be a top hero. But now, every time he thought about Izuku, all he could see was his own weakness.

And Katsuki knew, without a doubt, that he was a major reason why Izuku became the way that he is.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Yo, Bakugo!"

Katsuki's eye twitched as the unmistakable voice of Eijiro Kirishima cut through the noise. The black-haired boy plopped into the seat beside him, his ever-present grin wide and toothy.

"What do you want, Shitty Hair?" Katsuki muttered, his tone sharper than intended.

"Hey! My hair is not that bad!" Kirishima retorted in mock offense.

"Tch. Whatever." Katsuki scoffed.

Kirishima laughed it off, undeterred as always. "Anyways, you're always so grumpy, man. Lighten up a bit! Anyway, you're not gonna believe what happened in gym class earlier—"

"Not interested," Katsuki cut in, glaring out the window again.

"Come on, man, don't be like that!" Kirishima leaned closer, resting an elbow on Katsuki's desk. "You've been acting like some lone wolf ever since you got here. Don't you get tired of it?"

"No."

Kirishima smirked, clearly enjoying the challenge. "Well, I do. So you're stuck with me, like it or not."

Katsuki scowled, finally turning to glare at him. "Why the hell do you care so much? I didn't ask for a babysitter."

"Maybe not, but everyone needs a bro," Kirishima replied with a shrug. "And I've decided you're gonna be mine!"

The sheer audacity of the statement left Katsuki momentarily speechless. He opened his mouth to retort but found that the words wouldn't come.

"Tch. Do whatever you want," he grumbled, turning back to the window.

"Already planning on it!" Kirishima said cheerfully, slapping Katsuki on the back before returning to his seat.

As the noise of the classroom filled the air again, Katsuki let out a quiet sigh. He didn't deserve this—didn't deserve anyone trying to get close to him. Not after everything he'd done.

But for now, he didn't have the energy to fight it.

Just focus on U.A., he told himself, closing his eyes as he tried not to dwell on Izuku too much.

Speaking of Izuku, the quirkless villain had been on a spree lately! 

Ever since he fully embraced his purpose as a villain, he had thrown himself into his work with unrelenting enthusiasm. His crimes ranged from the spectacularly impactful to the hilariously petty, each one more absurd than the last. Izuku wasn't just committing crimes—he was redefining what it meant to be despicable.

The public, naturally, had mixed opinions about him. Some saw him as a dangerous menace who needed to be stopped immediately. Others, however, couldn't help but be intrigued by the sheer audacity and creativity of his actions. He was unpredictable, unorthodox, and, in some strange, twisted way, entertaining.

Overall, he was a huge controversy.

News stations, talk shows, and online forums buzzed with debate about the infamous villain known as Deku.

The headline blared across every screen in Mustafu:
"DEKU STRIKES AGAIN: THE QUIRKLESS MENACE WREAKS HAVOC ON HERO SOCIETY!"

A news anchor's somber face filled the screen, his voice dripping with urgency as dramatic music swelled in the background.

"Once again, the villain known as Deku has caused chaos in Mustafu, leaving behind destruction, confusion, and panic. Eyewitnesses report that the quirkless criminal orchestrated what can only be described as a 'synchronized fountain explosion,' flooding the city plaza with soap and foam while launching fireworks into the sky. Pro heroes arrived at the scene but were unable to apprehend him."

The camera cut to shaky footage of heroes stumbling through waist-high bubbles, their faces streaked with foam as the crowd laughed or shrieked from a distance. In the background, fireworks exploded, spelling out "You're Welcome! – Deku."

Another news segment picked up where the first left off, the tone growing even more dire. "This man is not a mere prankster. He is a symbol of rebellion against everything our society stands for. A villain without a quirk, managing to outsmart and humiliate some of the most prominent pro heroes? How can we allow this madness to continue?"

Meanwhile, back at his base, Izuku Midoriya was watching the broadcast on the TV.

"Oh, they're really laying it on thick this time," he said, laughing as he leaned back in his chair. One of his minions handed him a soda, and he raised it in mock salute to the screen. "To rebellion, chaos, and synchronized fountains!"

"Kanpai!" Some of his minions cheered with him.

Below, his minions were already busy packing up the remnants of the fireworks display and loading them into a small getaway truck. One of them accidentally set off a confetti cannon, spraying glitter all over the alleyway.

"Idiots," Izuku muttered with a fond smile.

Back on the news, the debate was heating up.

"Deku is a disgrace," a stern-faced pro hero declared during a live panel discussion. "His antics may seem harmless, but let's not forget the collateral damage. People have been seriously injured or almost died because of his so-called stunts!"

Another panelist chimed in, shaking her head. "Yes, but those victims were unintentional—people caught in the crossfire of hero-villain battles. That doesn't excuse him, but it's important to separate fact from sensationalism. What's truly alarming is his mindset. He's clearly...enjoying this."

The pro hero slammed his fist on the table. "Enjoying it? That's exactly the problem! He's mocking the very foundation of hero society! And the fact that some people find him entertaining only encourages this insanity!"

The screen cut to clips of viral memes and videos circulating online:

"Deku's Funniest Escapes Compilation – Part 6"

" How Deku Outsmarted Every Pro Hero for 12 Minutes Straight"

"Why Deku Might Be the Smartest Villain We've Ever Seen"

"Alright, boys, gather around," he said, standing in front of a chalkboard in his lair, covered with doodles of water pipes, ice cubes, and a very dramatic sketch of a faucet with the word "MINE" scrawled above it.

His minions crowded around, some wearing goggles too big for their faces, others scribbling nonsense on tiny notepads.

"So, here's the plan," Izuku began, tapping the board with a pointer. "We're going to freeze Mustafu's entire water supply and hold it ransom. Why? Because it's summer, and everyone's going to lose their minds without water!"

A minion raised its hand, waving a piece of chalk. "nama pem bapsal ta blub blub?"

"No, we're not actually keeping the water," Izuku clarified, rolling his eyes. "We'll unfreeze it once they meet our demands. Probably. I don't know, I haven't decided yet. But the point is, we're sending a message. A chilling message."

He paused and grinned proudly, letting the pun sink in. "Ehhh...?" The minions responded with confused gibberish and uncertain glances.

"Really? Nothing?" Izuku said, both disappointed and embarrassed by the silent crowd. He shook his head. "Anyways, we'll need to break into the main water treatment facility. And obviously my regular freeze ray isn't gonna make the cut, so I'll be using this little baby!" He pulled out a small, blue grenade that's radiating icy smoke.

The minions nodded enthusiastically, though one of them tripped over a toolbox and sent wrenches clattering to the floor.

"And as for the heroes," Izuku continued, paying no mind to the mess that was made. "I'm betting Endeavor or someone equally stubborn will show up. So, I've rigged a few...surprises." He gestured to a small remote sitting on the table. "Let's just say the floor might get a little...slippery."

"Ben tis pak?" Another minion raised its hand, pointing at a crudely drawn figure on the board labeled 'Annoying Hero.'

"Oh, that's Endeavor," Izuku explained, circling the drawing dramatically. "He's going to show up, yell my name in the most dramatic way possible, and then try to throw fire at me. Again. But this time, I've got a new strategy: ice beats fire. It's science!"

The minions clapped again, their enthusiasm infectious.

"Alright, team," Izuku said, clapping his hands together. "Let's make Mustafu chill out—literally."

Night had fallen on Mustafu, and the city's water treatment facility stood silent under the moonlight. The stillness was broken only by the faint hum of machinery and the soft footsteps of night-shift engineers going about their work. It was a typical evening—until it wasn't.

From the shadows, Izuku crouched on a nearby rooftop, binoculars in hand as he surveyed the facility. Beside him, his squad of minions stood at the ready, their yellow faces barely visible beneath makeshift ski masks. They began sneaking in through the facility's ventilation system.

"Alright, boys," Izuku whispered, lowering the binoculars. "Let's give this city something to talk about."

The minions saluted, their goggles glinting, and began to take action. Their tiny feet made almost no noise as they moved...almost.

While they were sneaking around inside the vents, one minion, however, just wouldn't stop...talking. Frankly, it's a miracle how the workers hadn't heard them yet.

Izuku pinched the bridge of his nose and began to harshly scold the endlessly muttering minion. "For the love of—Quiet! Do you want Endeavor to show up before we're ready?! Otto! Pull yourself together! Don't make me regret allowing you to come with us on this mission!"

The offending minion, Otto, scrambled to its feet, saluting again with a sheepish grin. "Bido, Boss!" The blabber-mouth minion apologized.

Rolling his eyes, Izuku using his stolen schematics and finally arrived to the motherboard of this place tapped into the central water line with ease, attaching the freeze grenade to the massive main pipe.

"And...done!" he declared, dusting off his hands. "Now, let's give this city the cold shoulder."

Izuku chuckled at his won pun as he pulled the grenade pin, and with an explosion, the grenade had worked as intended. Frost began spreading across the pipeline, creeping outward as the water inside solidified into ice. Within moments, the facility's gauges went haywire, alarms blaring as the city's water supply ground to a halt.

"DEKU!"

The all-too-familiar roar of Endeavor echoed through the facility as flames lit up the night. The No. 2 hero descended from above, landing with enough force to crack the concrete beneath him. Hmph, guess those workers did hear them after all...

"Ah, Endeavor!" Izuku called out cheerfully, having his freeze ray at hand. "You're right on time!"

"Step away from the machine, Deku!" Endeavor barked, flames flaring around him as he stalked forward.

Izuku tilted his head, tapping his chin. "Hmm, let me think about that...Nope!"

With a click of the button, the floor beneath Endeavor released a layer of slick, freezing mist. The flaming hero's boots slid out from under him, and he hit the ground with a loud thud.

Izuku couldn't help but laugh as Endeavor struggled to regain his footing, flames flaring wildly around him. "Careful, Enji! Wouldn't want to break a hip!"

Endeavor growled, planting his hands on the ground to steady himself. "You think this is funny? You've endangered the entire city!"

"Endangered?" Izuku said, feigning offense. "I think you mean hydrated. Besides, I'm doing them a favor! Who needs water when you have ice? It lasts longer!"

Endeavor let out a roar, flames erupting as he charged forward. Izuku simply sidestepped, activating his jetpack to hover just out of reach.

"You're really predictable, you know that?" Izuku teased, dodging a stream of fire with ease. "I mean, come on—charging in alone, again? You'd think after all the times I've made you look like a clown, you'd bring backup. Especially now in a place like this. Oh wait, let me guess...you didn't want to share the glory of finally catching little ol' me?~"

Endeavor's face twisted in fury, and for a brief moment, his flames flared hotter than before. "Enough of your games!"

Izuku playfully rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say."

With that, Izuku pressed another button on his remote. Jets of freezing mist erupted from the surrounding pipes, enveloping Endeavor in a thick cloud of frost. The heat of his flames clashed with the cold, creating an explosion of steam that obscured everything, causing all the workers inside to give up trying to maintain the building and evacuate.

By the time the steam cleared, Izuku and his minions were gone. Endeavor looked up to see them flying away, their jetpacks leaving trails of glittery smoke in the night sky.

Izuku's voice echoed through a speaker mounted on one of the jetpacks. "Nice tango, Enji! Same time next week?"

Endeavor clenched his fists, his flames roaring as the water facility groaned under the stress of the damage until it finally caved in, engulfing the flaming hero in a tsunami of cold water that was transforming into ice.

Backup finally arrived moments later, but by then, it was too late. After rummaging what was left of the water supply facility, Deku and his minions were long gone, leaving nothing behind but frost, glitter, and the sound of alarms...as well as an angry-looking, nearly frozen in ice Endeavor.

The next morning, news stations were in an uproar over Deku's latest stunt, and the headlines ranged from condemning to outright amused:

"Deku Strikes Again: Mustafu's Water Supply Frozen and Destroyed!"
The article highlighted the severe disruption caused by the freeze. Thousands of residents woke up to frozen faucets, showerheads clogged with ice, and water lines rendered useless. Local businesses were forced to close, fire departments struggled without water pressure, and emergency services were left scrambling for solutions. Engineers at the water facility confirmed that the damage would take weeks to repair.

"Quirkless Menace or Criminal Genius? The Debate Continues."
A live panel of commentators debated the implications of Deku's growing notoriety.

"He's a menace, plain and simple!" one pro hero barked during the segment. "This wasn't just a stunt—it was an attack on an essential resource. People could've died without access to water!"

"Yes, but let's not forget the bigger picture," a counterpoint came from a journalist. "Deku has single-handedly outmaneuvered some of the top pro heroes time and time again. He's quirkless, yet he continues to pull off stunts no one else would even think of. Love him or hate him, you can't deny he's unique."

The panel erupted into heated debate, but one undeniable fact loomed: Deku's ability to pull off increasingly elaborate crimes was garnering attention and raising uncomfortable questions about hero society's ability to stop him.

"How Did Deku Outwit Endeavor Again?"
A particularly scathing article took direct aim at Endeavor, highlighting his repeated failures to apprehend Deku.

"The No. 2 Pro Hero's ego might be his downfall," the article read. "Once again, Endeavor rushed in without backup, underestimated his opponent, and fell victim to Deku's cunning. If the nation's top heroes can't stop a quirkless villain, what does that say about the state of hero society?"

A montage of images accompanied the article, showcasing Endeavor slipping on the ice, stuck in a freezing mist cloud, and ultimately standing frozen in the aftermath of the ruined water facility as Deku and his minions escaped.

Social media exploded with posts, memes, and commentary on the incident:

HeroHotTakes @HeroDebater13 • 6h

Endeavor is really out here losing to a kid with gadgets and glitter smoke...AGAIN. Maybe he should take notes from Hawks or, I don't know, RETIRE? Don't he got a whole ahh family to take care of?

12.4k retweets 3.1k quote tweets 18.7k likes

VillainApologist @DekuStan69 • 4h

This dude froze an entire water supply AND escaped like a pro. Deku stays winning!

15.2k retweets 2.4k quote tweets 22.1k likes

QuirklessWonder @AntiHeroAnon • 5h

Y'all laugh, but think about this: a quirkless villain is running circles around hero society. Maybe the problem isn't Deku. Maybe it's THEM.

8.1k retweets 1.7k quote tweets 12.5k likes

Whenever it came to Deku's weird 'rivalry' with Endeavor, the memes were relentless:

A clip of Endeavor slipping on the ice, captioned:

"Live footage of the No. 2 Hero fighting gravity."

A photo of a minion juggling snowballs, with the text: "Forget Deku—the REAL MVPs of villainy."

A side-by-side image comparing Endeavor's angry face with a steaming kettle, reading: "Endeavor every time Deku shows up."

But while this was indeed another crazy case, it wasn't the only thing that was covered. Once again, the yellow chaos makers known as Deku's minions took center stage in the latest news coverage of the ransom.

"While authorities continue their efforts to track down Deku, attention has once again turned to his bizarre accomplices," the anchor announced, gesturing to a screen filled with various photos of the minions.

Since Deku's rise to infamy, his small, yellow assistants had been a frequent topic of discussion in the media. Despite their clear involvement in his crimes, the minions were often reported on with a tone of baffled humor, as their absurd behavior continued to overshadow their criminal association.

"Who—or what—are they?" the anchor asked, his voice dipping into a slightly exasperated tone. "These...creatures have been spotted at nearly every one of Deku's stunts, causing havoc and confusion wherever they go."

The screen displayed a compilation of minion moments caught on camera:

• One minion wearing a traffic cone as a hat, directing cars into a ditch during a bank heist.

• Another accidentally setting its own pants on fire, only to roll dramatically on the ground in exaggerated panic.

• And the infamous incident where a group of minions used office chairs to race down a hallway during a museum robbery.

The anchor sighed as a particularly ridiculous image appeared: a minion sticking its tongue out at the camera while another mooned the viewer. Laughter could be heard from behind the scenes in the newsroom.

"Authorities urge the public to remain vigilant," the anchor continued, clearly trying to regain composure. "If you see one of these minions, please report it immediately to local heroes or law enforcement. Although...as of now, no minions have been successfully apprehended."

The public's fascination with the minions only grew with each news cycle.

Social media platforms lit up with posts:

HeroFan @Hero_Lover34 • 3h

Me when I finally had enough of my job: [Minion wearing a tie and tripping into a fountain].

7k retweets 90 quote tweets 8.1k likes

VillainWatcher @ChaosAppreciator • 5h

Okay, but are we not going to talk about how Deku has a literal army of adorable chaos gremlins???

10.2k retweets 1.5k quote tweets 19.3k likes

SidekickDebater @QuirkTalkDaily • 2h

Minions > Sidekicks. Sorry, not sorry.

4.3k retweets 532 quote tweets 12.7k likes

MemeEnthusiast @Memes4l1fe69 • 6h

Whoever that mooning minion is, you're my hero.

15k retweets 1.2k quote tweets 18.5k likes

BigBrainThoughts @PlotTwistSeer • 1h

Forget Deku—are we sure these minions aren't the real masterminds? 🤔

5.6k retweets 300 quote tweets 9.4k likes

Meemaw~ @Mawmee • 3h

At this point, I don't even care who Deku is. Where can I get a minion?

11.9k retweets 1.7k quote tweets 22.3k likes

Even some talk show hosts couldn't resist leaning into the humor. "Look, I'm not condoning villainy," one panelist admitted during a talk show, "but if Deku ever decides to sell plush versions of these minions, I'd be first in line."

Still, beneath the humor, there was genuine curiosity. Were the minions some kind of invention? A mutated species? A quirk Izuku had somehow hidden from the world? The lack of answers only fueled the people's wonder.

The comment drew laughter from the audience, and clips of the moment quickly went viral. But beneath the jokes and lightheartedness, a wave of genuine curiosity persisted. Were the minions inventions? Mutated creatures? Some secret quirk that Deku had been hiding? The lack of answers only fueled public speculation, with online forums and discussion boards ablaze with theories.

And yet, amidst the curiosity, one fact stood out that left everyone completely baffled: how had none of the minions been caught?

The question wasn't new—it had been debated for months—but the most recent incident reignited the conversation. Social media exploded with posts, and a few particularly viral tweets summed up the collective disbelief:

QuirkWatcher @HeroFailMemes • 7h

Yeah, these little guys are cute and funny and all, but how the hell have none of them been caught yet??? A whole ahh society of powerful pro heroes and not ONE of these guys have been captured?? 💀 Are heroes that incompetent lately or do these guys have plot armor or some shit??

9.3k retweets 1.1k quote tweets 18.2k likes

QuirkInformer @HeroNewsNetwork • 7h

Breaking: Authorities and pro heroes still haven't caught a single one of Deku's minions. HOW.

11.2k retweets 1.5k quote tweets 19.3k likes

The comment sparked a wave of replies and memes:

"Plot armor confirmed. These minions are the real protagonists."

"Minions when a pro hero gets close: *Insert that meme of the black guy slowly disappearing * 😭."

"I bet they slip away because the heroes are too busy laughing."

Pro heroes, on the other hand, had no answers to offer. Many insisted they were "making progress," but the truth was undeniable: despite their absurdity, the minions were infuriatingly good at avoiding capture. Whether it was through sheer luck, clever teamwork, or some inexplicable force of nature, they continued to be an enigma.

Meanwhile, in his lair, Izuku was watching the broadcast with a smirk, his minions gathered around him. One of them waved enthusiastically at the TV, as if the camera could see it.

"Well, boys," Izuku said, leaning back with a satisfied sigh, "looks like you're stealing the spotlight again."

The minions cheered, one of them climbing onto Izuku's shoulder and posing dramatically.

"Just don't let it get to your heads," he added with a chuckle. "We're here to be despicable, not adorable. Got it?"

One minion responded with a loud "Woohoo!" and promptly fell off the table, sending papers flying everywhere. Izuku sighed, shaking his head with a fond smile. "And yet, somehow, you're winning people over."

The minions cheered, breaking into an impromptu conga line around the lair, their antics filling the room with gleeful chaos. Izuku let them celebrate, their infectious energy and undying loyalty reminding him why he kept them around despite their...occasional mishaps.

But while his minions reveled in their latest victory, Izuku quietly slipped away into his private office. He shut the door behind him, the noise fading into the background, and sank into his chair.

U.A.'s entrance exam was just days away.

Leaning forward, Izuku rested his elbows on the desk, steepling his fingers as his mind churned with possibilities. The glow from his monitors reflected off his emerald eyes. Slowly, a devious grin crept across his face, filled with mischief and ambition.

"Oh, Katsuki," he muttered, his voice dripping with mock fondness. "You're going to love what I've got planned for you—and U.A., of course."

He chuckled softly to himself. Katsuki and U.A's next generation better have prepare themselves. Ever since he'd learned that both All Might and Katsuki would be at U.A., he'd been gleefully and meticulously plotting his revenge.

Two of the three people who had wronged him most in his life—both in the same place, practically gift-wrapped for him.

He would be killing two birds with one stone!

Katsuki. All Might. They wouldn't know what hit them!

Deku has something especially despicable planned just for them~!

It was yet another uneventful day of middle school. The bell rang, signaling the end of classes, and Katsuki Bakugo wasted no time packing his bag. His movements were quick and methodical, as if he were eager to leave the confines of the classroom.

The once-lively Katsuki, who used to boast and dominate every space he walked into, was long gone. Now, he kept to himself, his demeanor quiet and reserved. His classmates barely acknowledged him, and he preferred it that way.

He slid his notebooks and pencils into his bag with practiced ease, slinging it over his shoulder before heading toward the door. The sounds of chatter and laughter from his peers filled the hallway, but Katsuki walked through it all as though it were white noise.

His gaze remained fixed ahead, his thoughts elsewhere. The U.A. entrance exam was only days away, and the weight of it loomed over him. This wasn't just about getting into U.A.; it was about redemption and atonement. About proving to himself that he wasn't the same arrogant, self-absorbed kid who had contributed to pushing someone into darkness.

But even as he walked down the hall, his mind racing with thoughts of his future, a familiar voice interrupted his solitude.

"Yo, Bakugo!"

Katsuki groaned internally. He didn't even have to turn around to know who it was.

Eijiro Kirishima jogged up to him, a wide grin plastered on his face as usual.

"Where you heading, man? Wanna hit up the convenience store before heading home?" Kirishima asked, his tone as casual as ever.

Katsuki sighed, adjusting the strap of his bag. "No."

Kirishima didn't falter. If anything, the rejection only seemed to fuel his determination. "Aw, come on! You've been dodging me all week. I'm not that annoying, am I?"

Katsuki stopped in his tracks, turning to glare at him. "Yes. You are."

Kirishima laughed, completely unfazed. "Well, too bad. I'm sticking around anyway. Somebody's gotta keep you company."

Katsuki groaned but didn't bother arguing further. He continued walking, Kirishima trailing close behind like a persistent shadow. And it continued even during their walk after school.

"Come on, Bakugo!" Kirishima persisted, jogging to keep up with Katsuki's brisk pace. "You've been ditching me all week! What's the deal? Too cool to hang out with me?"

Katsuki clicked his tongue in irritation, not even sparing Kirishima a glance. "I said no, didn't I? Go find someone else to bother."

"Yeah, but you don't mean that," Kirishima replied, grinning wide. "You're just playing hard to get. Besides, it's kind of my thing to stick with people who look like they don't want friends. You'd be surprised how often it works."

Katsuki stopped abruptly, turning to glare at him. "Are you seriously this annoying with everyone?"

"Only with the cool ones," Kirishima shot back, his grin unwavering.

Katsuki groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Truthfully, he wasn't just brushing Kirishima off out of annoyance—he had somewhere important to be. Today's training session with Mirko could very well be one of his last before the U.A. entrance exam. The idea of bringing Kirishima along didn't sit well with him. Mirko was intense enough; the last thing he needed was a tagalong asking questions or slowing things down.

"Look," Katsuki said with a huff, resuming his pace, "I've got stuff to do. Go bother someone else."

But Kirishima, ever persistent, kept up easily. "What kind of stuff? Hero training? Grocery shopping? Secret plans to take over the world?"

"Shut up."

"Alright, alright," Kirishima said, chuckling as he raised his hands in mock surrender. "But seriously, Bakugo, you've got to lighten up. Life's too short to be this grumpy all the time."

Suddenly, without warning, a newspaper came flying out of nowhere and smacked Kirishima square in the face.

"Gah!" Kirishima stumbled, flailing for a moment before grabbing the offending paper and pulling it free. Katsuki paused, raising an eyebrow at the sight.

"Dumbass," Katsuki muttered under his breath.

"Hey, it's not like I saw it coming!" Kirishima protested, examining the newspaper. His eyes widened as he took in the bold headline plastered across the front page:

"Deku Strikes Again: Quirkless Villain Freezes Mustafu's Water Supply!"

Kirishima let out a low whistle, flipping the paper to scan the article. "Man, this Deku guy is everywhere lately. Freezing the water supply? That's insane!"

Katsuki didn't respond, his gaze fixed on the sidewalk ahead.

"You know," Kirishima continued, still engrossed in the paper, "I know we're not supposed to root for villains or anything, but... I can't lie, what he's pulling off is kinda manly." He glanced up with a grin. "I mean, the dude's quirkless, right? And he's out here outsmarting pro heroes left and right! You gotta admit, that takes guts."

Katsuki's jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. Kirishima, oblivious, kept talking.

"Like, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying what he's doing is right or anything," Kirishima added quickly, "but the way he's going about it? That's next-level determination. Guy's making waves, for sure."

When Kirishima finally looked up, he noticed the tension radiating off Katsuki. His shoulders were stiff, his fists clenched, and his gaze was fixed straight ahead, a storm brewing in his crimson eyes.

"Uh...Bakugo?" Kirishima asked, his tone more cautious now. "You good, man?"

"I...Shut up," Katsuki growled, his voice low and sharp.

Kirishima blinked, confused. "Whoa, okay. Didn't think you'd take it so personally. You know him or something?"

"Just...drop it," Katsuki snapped, walking faster as if to leave the conversation—and Kirishima—behind.

For the first time, Kirishima didn't push further as even he could tell that this was a topic that Katsuki did not want to dwell on. He stared after Katsuki, scratching the back of his head, the newspaper still clutched in his hand.

"What's his deal?" Kirishima muttered to himself before jogging to catch up again.

Kirishima, never one to back down, quickly jogged to catch up with Katsuki after his abrupt retreat. For a while, the air between them was awkward and heavy, neither saying a word. Katsuki stared straight ahead, his mind swirling with thoughts he didn't want to acknowledge, while Kirishima glanced at him occasionally, clearly trying to think of something to break the tension.

Finally, Kirishima cleared his throat. "So, uh...you like ramen?"

Katsuki shot him a sideways glance, his expression unreadable.

"There's this great little ramen shop near here," Kirishima continued, undeterred. "Best spicy miso ramen I've ever had. You should totally come with me. My treat!"

Katsuki stopped walking, his gaze narrowing slightly as he studied Kirishima. The awkward silence stretched for a moment before he finally sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Fine," he grumbled. "If it'll make you finally shut up."

Kirishima blinked in surprise, his eyes wide. "Wait, really?"

Katsuki turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets as he started walking again. "Yeah, whatever. Just don't make a big deal out of it."

But Kirishima couldn't help the grin spreading across his face. "You got it, man!" he said enthusiastically, quickly falling into step beside Katsuki.

Truthfully, Katsuki didn't feel like being alone with his thoughts anymore. The tension Kirishima had noticed earlier wasn't something he wanted to linger on, and he wasn't about to let the other boy start asking questions he didn't want to answer. Besides, even someone as lonesome as Katsuki couldn't resist a good bowl of ramen—especially spicy ramen, his personal favorite. Mirko can wait.

Besides, even the most loneliest of men could not resist good food.

As they walked toward the ramen shop, Kirishima did his best to keep the conversation light, rambling about different ramen toppings and his personal rankings of noodle shops in the area. Katsuki mostly stayed quiet, occasionally letting out a grunt of acknowledgment or rolling his eyes at Kirishima's enthusiasm.

But despite himself, Katsuki felt a faint sliver of amusement at the way Kirishima talked about ramen like it was some kind of sacred art form.

By the time they reached the shop, the awkward tension from earlier had mostly melted away. Katsuki still wasn't entirely sure what to make of Kirishima's persistent attempts to befriend him, but for now, he was willing to tolerate it.

"Two bowls of spicy miso!" Kirishima called out cheerfully to the cook as they sat down at the counter.

"Make mine extra spicy," Katsuki added gruffly.

Kirishima laughed. "Man, you really go all out, huh?"

"Shut up," Katsuki muttered, but there was no real bite in his tone.

For the first time in what felt like a while, Katsuki let himself relax, even if just a little.

As they finished their ramen, Katsuki set down his chopsticks with a contented sigh. The spicy miso had been exactly what he needed, and though he'd never admit it out loud, the meal—and Kirishima's relentless chatter—had helped lighten his mood.

Kirishima, on the other hand, was still going on about the ramen shop's signature broth as they stepped out into the cool evening air. "I'm telling you, man, that place never disappoints! The spice level was just right, don't you think?"

"It was fine," Katsuki muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked.

Kirishima beamed. "See? Told ya! You gotta trust me on these things, Bakugo. I've got a sixth sense for good food."

"Whatever you say." Katsuki rolled his eyes. He slowed to a stop at the corner of the street, glancing down the road ahead. "I've got somewhere to be," he said gruffly.

"Oh, alright." Kirishima stopped as well, scratching the back of his head. "Guess I'll see you around?"

For a moment, Katsuki hesitated, his gaze fixed on the pavement. Then, almost too quietly to hear, he muttered, "Thanks for paying. The meal was good."

Kirishima's eyes widened in surprise before his face broke into the widest grin yet. "Whoa, did Bakugo just—"

"Don't make a big deal out of it," Katsuki snapped, his face flushing slightly as he turned away.

"Too late!" Kirishima said, laughing with sparkles in his eyes. "Man, I knew you'd loosen up eventually! Progress, baby!"

Katsuki groaned, covering his face with one hand. "I already regret what I said. You're way too happy about this."

"You're just mad because I'm right," Kirishima teased, throwing an arm around Katsuki's shoulders for a brief moment. "But seriously, I'm glad you came. You're alright, Bakugo. Even if you're still kinda grumpy."

Katsuki shrugged off Kirishima's arm with a huff. "Shut up already. Go bother someone else for a while."

Kirishima chuckled but waved as Katsuki started walking away. "See you at school tomorrow, buddy!"

"Don't call me that!" Katsuki shouted over his shoulder, his pace quickening as he disappeared down the street.

Shaking off his lingering embarrassment from his interaction with Kirishima, Katsuki refocused his mind on what really mattered. He had somewhere to be.

But he couldn't help but replay the events of the day in his mind. Kirishima's persistence had been annoying, but he had to admit—if only to himself—that the guy's endless optimism was a little less grating than usual. And the ramen had been good.

Anyways, after adjusting the strap of his bag, he took a sharp turn down a quieter street, heading toward his training grounds. The sun had begun to set, casting long shadows across the pavement, but Katsuki paid no attention to the changing sky. His mind was set on one thing: training with Mirko.

The U.A. entrance exam was just days away, and he couldn't afford any distractions. He wasn't the same arrogant, self-assured kid he used to be—he had to be better. Stronger. Faster. Smarter.

And if there was anyone who could push him to his absolute limits, it was Rumi Usagiyama, the Rabbit Hero: Mirko.

Izuku would've been ecstatic about this.

As he neared the meeting spot, he could already hear the distant sound of something heavy—probably a tree—being shattered to splinters. A smirk twitched at the corner of his lips.

"Better not keep her waiting," he muttered, rolling his shoulders before breaking into a sprint.

Training was about to begin.

The moment Katsuki arrived at the clearing, he barely had time to set his bag down before an enormous tree was reduced to splinters right in front of him. He instinctively shielded his face from the flying debris, scowling as the dust settled.

Standing amidst the destruction, one foot planted atop what remained of the shattered trunk, was Mirko, grinning like she hadn't just obliterated a perfectly good tree for no reason.

"'Bout time, Sparky! I was starting to think you chickened out," she taunted, cracking her knuckles.

Katsuki scoffed, rolling his shoulders. "Tch. Like hell I would."

Mirko's grin widened. "Good. 'Cause tonight's your final test."

Before he could ask what that meant, she launched herself at him without warning. Katsuki barely managed to react, propelling himself sideways with a quick explosion as Mirko's heel crashed down where he had just stood, sending cracks spiderwebbing through the earth.

She didn't let up. She was on him instantly, moving faster than he could process. Katsuki threw up an arm, blocking a kick that sent him skidding back several feet. His muscles ached, but he refused to let himself be overwhelmed.

He retaliated with a precision explosion aimed at her side, forcing her to twist mid-air to dodge. Instead of trying to overpower her—something he knew was impossible—he focused on keeping his distance, staying agile, and controlling the momentum of the fight.

This wasn't just brute force training anymore. This was strategy.

"Not bad," Mirko admitted, landing gracefully. "Looks like you finally figured out how to use that damn brain of yours."

Katsuki wiped sweat from his brow. "Took you long enough to notice."

Mirko lunged again, and Katsuki met her with another controlled blast, redirecting her momentum instead of trying to overpower her. Every move, every dodge, every counterattack—it was everything he had learned from her training sessions up until now, culminating into one final battle.

The fight continued for what felt like hours, Katsuki pushing himself past his limits, adjusting, adapting, refusing to let himself be crushed by Mirko's raw strength and speed. And then, just when he thought he had the upper hand, Mirko shifted gears.

With a sudden burst of speed, she ducked under his next attack and delivered a devastating roundhouse kick to his ribs, sending him tumbling across the clearing.

He groaned, coughing as he tried to push himself back up, but before he could, Mirko planted a foot on his chest, pinning him down.

"That's it," she said, stretching lazily like she hadn't just kicked his ass. "We're done."

Katsuki blinked. "That's it?"

"Yup. You ain't half bad anymore," she said, stepping off him. "I mean, you still got a long way to go before you're pro material, but hey, you might actually survive U.A."

Katsuki scoffed, sitting up. "Gee, thanks."

Mirko smirked. "Tch. Don't get all sentimental on me, Sparky. You're strong, but you better prove it at that exam. If you screw up, I'm gonna pretend I never trained you."

Katsuki's eye twitched. "You serious?!"

She shrugged. "Dunno. Maybe. I'll probably forget about you in a week anyway."

"Oi!"

But Mirko was already turning away, waving him off. "Later, brat! Don't make me regret wastin' my time on you!"

Katsuki scowled, glaring at her retreating figure. "Dumbass rabbit..."

But as he stood, dusting himself off, he let out a deep breath.

He was ready.

Meanwhile, on the other side of town, Izuku was deep in his own preparations. His workstation was cluttered with tools, wires, blueprints, and a variety of half-finished gadgets. He adjusted a pair of sleek, reinforced gauntlets, flexing his fingers as the mechanisms inside whirred to life. A wicked grin tugged at his lips.

"Alright, let's see...Shock-absorbing and rocket boots? Check. Stun pellets? Check. Reinforced baton for when I inevitably have to smack someone? Double check."

A small minion waddled over, holding up a pair of customized contact lenses. Izuku plucked them from its tiny hands and popped them in, blinking as his eye color shifted from his usual emerald green to a piercing, icy blue.

"Can't have anyone recognizing me too easily," he mused, turning to the mirror.

His disguise was almost complete. A wig, a voice modulator tucked into the collar of his suit, and a sleek, form-fitting black bodysuit designed for maximum mobility. He wasn't trying to become a new persona—he just needed to make sure no one would immediately go, Oh hey, isn't that Deku?

With a self-satisfied nod, he turned back to his main project—a modified wrist console linked directly to U.A.'s network.

Hacking into their system had been laughably easy. Principal Nezu might have been a genius, but even geniuses had blind spots. U.A.'s security system was designed to keep villains out, not to deal with someone already inside playing puppet master.

Plus, the advanced technologies given to him by The Bank of Evil had been exquisite! He supposes finding out about them was one thing he could thank Giran for...

Izuku cracked his knuckles and pulled up the command sequence for the zero-pointer release.

"Now, for the fun part," he muttered, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

If the faculty thought their exam was already a high-pressure gauntlet, wait until they saw what happened when their kaiju-sized death bot got released early. He had no plans to destroy anything—just enough to send them into a complete panic.

"Oh, Katsuki," Izuku whispered, placing a hand on the metal frame. "You're going to love what I've got in store for you."

He let out a quiet chuckle before turning to one of his minions, who was holding up a tiny sign that read: Deku's Master Plan, Step 1: Be Evil, Step 2: ???, Step 3: Profit.

Izuku snorted. "Close enough."

Everything was set. His gadgets were prepped. His disguise was flawless. The hacks were in place.

With a final, satisfied stretch, he stood up and cracked his neck.

"Time to give U.A. a test they'll never forget."

At that same moment, across the city, Katsuki stood at his room window, staring out into the neighborhood. His body ached from training, but he ignored the pain.

In his lair, Izuku was just making the final touches to the weapons and gadgets he would use for U.A's entrance exam.

Their minds were set.

"I'll definitely save you, Izuku!/I'll definitely destroy you, Katsuki!"

The two former childhood friends—now rivals on opposite sides of the battlefield—had made their declarations.

And to think, just months ago, their paths had seemed so different.

Katsuki, once an arrogant, self-absorbed powerhouse who saw himself as above everyone else, now walked a road of redemption. He was learning, growing, and striving—not just to be the best, but to be better. A hero worthy of the title. A hero like All Might—someone who saved people no matter what.

And Izuku, once a bright-eyed, hero-obsessed dreamer, now stood on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. He no longer cared for saving people. No longer cared for approval. His goals were no longer about proving his worth to others. Now, his only desire was to carve his name into history, to become the greatest villain the world had ever seen.

Truly, how the turntables.

A few days later.

The morning sun filtered through the windows of the Bakugo household, casting long streaks of golden light across the living room floor. The air was thick with an unspoken tension, one that had been building ever since Katsuki's parents agreed to let him take the U.A. entrance exam.

Katsuki stood near the front door, bag slung over his shoulder, ready to leave. But before he could step out, his parents stood in his way, their expressions serious.

Masaru was the first to break the silence. "Katsuki," he said, his voice steady but firm, "before you go, there's something we need to talk about."

Katsuki sighed, his grip tightening on the strap of his bag. "Yeah, I figured," he muttered, shifting his weight slightly.

Mitsuki crossed her arms, her sharp eyes narrowing at her son. "You know damn well that this isn't just about passing some test. This is your chance to prove you're not that same little bastard who thought he was better than everyone else."

Katsuki flinched at the bluntness of her words but didn't argue. She wasn't wrong.

Masaru nodded. "We made a deal, remember? We're going to talk to Principal Nezu about your past behavior—the bullying, your attitude, everything. He'll decide how to handle it, and however he chooses to, you have to accept it. No complaints, no fighting back."

Katsuki swallowed hard. He hadn't forgotten. That was the condition his parents had set for him to even attempt the exam. He had to own up to what he had done.

Mitsuki sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose before looking at him again. "You've been better, I won't deny that. But this is just the start, Katsuki. Don't think for a second that one good month cancels out years of being a little shit."

Katsuki let out a slow breath. "I know," he said, quieter than usual.

"Do you?" Mitsuki challenged, stepping forward. "Because if you screw this up, there's no 'next time.' You don't get to just act like nothing happened. If Nezu decides you're not U.A. material, you take it. You live with it. You got that?"

Katsuki clenched his fists, staring at the floor. The old him—the arrogant, impulsive, prideful him—would have snapped back, would have denied everything, would have sworn that he was the best and that U.A. needed him.

But he wasn't that kid anymore. Or at least, he was trying not to be.

"I got it," he said finally, his voice steady.

Masaru gave him a small, approving nod. Mitsuki, though still stern, seemed satisfied enough.

A heavy silence filled the room before Masaru placed a hand on Katsuki's shoulder. "Good," he said. "Now go. Give it your all."

Katsuki nodded once, then turned toward the door. Just as he opened it, Mitsuki's voice called after him.

"And don't go blowing up the damn school before you even get in!"

Katsuki groaned, rolling his eyes. "I get it, old hag!"

Mitsuki smirked. "Just making sure."

With that, Katsuki stepped out of the house and was off to his way to U.A.

Katsuki stood outside the massive gates of U.A. High, his sharp crimson eyes scanning the flood of examinees passing through. Some looked confident, some nervous, but none of them mattered to him. He had one goal: crush this exam and prove himself.

He exhaled slowly, clenching and unclenching his fists as he took a step forward.

"Yo, Bakugo!"

Katsuki froze mid-step, his brow twitching at the familiar voice. He turned his head, only to be met with—

"...The fuck is up with your hair?"

Standing there, grinning like an idiot, was Kirishima—but not quite the same Kirishima from middle school. His once dark, unkempt hair was now a blindingly bright red, styled into wild, jagged spikes that shot out from his head at all angles. Two pronounced tufts stood out on either side of his forehead, almost resembling tiny horns.

Even for Katsuki, it looked...odd.

Kirishima, clearly proud of his new look, laughed and scratched the back of his head. "Pretty manly, huh?"

Katsuki just...stared. Then, after a long pause, deadpanned, "No. You look like a damn porcupine. Should I start calling you shittier-hair now?"

Kirishima's sputtered. "Hey! My hair is not that bad!" he protested, hands flying up to pat his spikes defensively. "And what do you mean by shittier?! Were you always serious that you thought my hair was bad?!" He exclaimed.

Katsuki did not answer.

He just turned back toward the U.A. gates and walked forward, completely unfazed.

Kirishima gawked at him. "Oi! Answer me, man!"

Katsuki kept walking.

Kirishima groaned, rubbing his face. "Unbelievable. Haven't even started the exam, and I'm already getting roasted."

Still, despite his exaggerated grumbling, he jogged to catch up, a grin creeping back onto his face.

Unbeknownst to them, a white-haired teenager in a standard middle school uniform trailed silently behind. His sharp, calculating eyes—disguised behind a pair of hazel-blue contacts—swept over the crowd, taking in everything around him. A black face mask concealed the lower half of his face, adding another layer of anonymity. Slung over his shoulder was an ordinary-looking school bag, though its contents were anything but. Inside, neatly packed and meticulously arranged, were the inventions he had built—tools specifically designed to ensure his success in this farce of an exam.

It was Deku in disguise.

Although he still didn't quite know how to feel about his white wig that was too...slick for his liking. It was suggested by his minions. Apparently, they had a whole stash full of wigs from an old pre-quirk wig store called 'Eagle Hair Club' so these things are pretty ancient.

And because, he didn't want to go through the effort of bleaching his hair just for a one day disguise. But whatever, he may not like the wig as much as his minions did, but he didn't care that much as long as it looks believable.

Izuku's gaze briefly flickered toward Katsuki and the red-haired boy beside him. His first instinct was disbelief. Katsuki...made a friend? The thought alone was almost laughable. The Katsuki he had known—arrogant, self-absorbed, incapable of seeing others as anything but stepping stones—befriending someone? impossible. Blasphemy!

But he didn't dwell on it for long. Tch. Another one of his extras, he decided, dismissing the thought entirely. That guy was probably just another lackey, just like the ones Katsuki used to surround himself with back in middle school. Nothing had really changed.

Come to think of it, maybe that red-head  guy that was with Katsuki earlier could need a wig of his own. That hairstyle is not doing him any favors. Izuku thought.

In the end, he pushed those distractions aside. He had a mission.

Deku was entering the U.A entrance exam but with no intentions of passing, but simply just to get first place.

He was doing this not because he wanted the prestige. Not because he wanted to prove himself to heroes.

But because he wanted every examinee to know that they had been beaten by someone without a quirk.

To just tell them, not verbally, but through his actions that say, 'I'm better than you. And I don't even have a quirk!'

Just imagine the humiliation. All those future pro heroes, kids who had spent their whole lives honing their quirks, only to be outclassed by someone with nothing but his own ingenuity and spite.

Izuku smirked under his mask.

The man really was going through all this effort just to be petty.

Today was going to be fun.

The massive examination hall buzzed with quiet tension as hundreds of examinees filled the room, each one anxiously awaiting the start of the exam. The air was thick with anticipation—except for one individual, who sat near the back, completely at ease.

Izuku Midoriya leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded behind his hazel-blue contacts. He had already thoroughly studied U.A.'s entrance exam structure weeks ago—hacking into their system had made that laughably easy. He knew exactly how the written and practical exams would be conducted, down to the scoring algorithms.

This was all just a formality.

At the front of the hall, the doors swung open dramatically, and in walked the ever-energetic Voice Hero: Present Mic. The blonde pro hero hopped onto the stage, adjusting his sunglasses before grabbing the microphone and taking a deep breath.

"HEEEEEEYYYYYY, U.A. EXAMINEES!! WHO'S READY TO CRUSH THIS EXAM?!"

Silence.

Dead silence.

Not a single student responded.

Present Mic blinked, momentarily thrown off by the absolute lack of energy. He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. "Huh...tough crowd."

Izuku smirked under his mask. And here I thought I was the only one not taking this seriously.

After a brief, awkward pause, Present Mic carried on as if nothing had happened. "Alrighty then! Let's get this party started! I'm here to give you the lowdown on how today's gonna go!"

As he launched into his enthusiastic explanation, Izuku barely paid attention, already mouthing the words in sync with him. He knew it all. The written exam was standard—U.A.'s version of a high-stakes test. Nothing special.

The practical exam, however, was where things got fun.

A combat trial in a massive replica city, where students had to destroy mechanical villain bots to earn points. Three types of bots:

One-point bots—small fry, barely worth the effort.

Two-point bots—a bit tougher but nothing special.

Three-point bots—more durable, but still manageable.

And then there was the zero-pointer, the colossal, kaiju-sized machine meant to intimidate and obstruct rather than actually be fought. Most students were expected to run from it, and it was worth exactly zero points.

But that's where U.A. had made their mistake.

They had left that thing in his control.

Izuku's smirk widened slightly as he tapped his fingers against his knee, thinking about how wonderfully this was going to play out.

Unbeknownst to the faculty, the zero-pointer was already hacked, waiting for his command. The moment it was unleashed, it wouldn't just stand around like a glorified obstacle—it was going to make the entire battlefield his playground.

The best part? There was nothing U.A. could do about it.

Present Mic continued his energetic explanation, oblivious to the storm brewing in the mind of one particular examinee.

Izuku turned his head slightly, his sharp, calculating eyes locking onto the familiar figure sitting just a few seats away—completely unaware of who was right next to him.

Katsuki.

He was laser-focused on the stage, likely thinking about how he was going to dominate the exam, how he was going to prove he was the strongest one here.

Izuku's lips curled into a slow, devious grin beneath his mask.

Good luck, Kacchan. You're gonna need it.

The moment Present Mic wrapped up the presentation, a buzzer echoed through the hall, signaling the start of the practical exam. The room erupted into motion as students rose from their seats, heading toward their assigned testing locations.

Izuku stood as well, slinging his bag over his shoulder, blending into the crowd.

But unlike the others, he wasn't walking into this exam to earn anything.

He was walking in to ruin it.

As the examinees poured out of the hall, Katsuki walked ahead with his usual scowl, hands stuffed into his pockets. Kirishima jogged up beside him, grinning like this was just another casual hangout rather than the most important exam of their lives.

"Man, can you believe Present Mic is like that all the time?" Kirishima said, stretching his arms behind his head. "Dude's got energy for days."

Katsuki scoffed. "Annoying as hell."

Kirishima chuckled. "Come on, you gotta admit, it's kinda cool. A pro hero getting this hyped up for us?"

"Whatever," Katsuki muttered, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "Doesn't matter. I'm gonna ace this thing."

Kirishima nodded. "Yeah, no doubt! Bet you're aiming for first place, huh?"

Katsuki clicked his tongue. "Of course. No half-assin' it."

Kirishima let out an approving hum. "That's manly, bro. Me? I just wanna do my best and—"

He suddenly paused, his eyes scanning the crowd. A weird feeling prickled at the back of his neck.

"Hey, is it just me, or does something feel...off?"

Katsuki barely spared him a glance. "The hell are you talkin' about?"

Kirishima rubbed his chin. "I dunno, just feels like someone's watching us."

Unbeknownst to them, lingering just within earshot, a lone figure blended seamlessly into the crowd.

Izuku Midoriya kept his head down, moving with careful, calculated steps, ensuring no one gave him a second glance. His uniform was crisp, his disguise flawless, and his movements deliberate—nothing that would make him stand out.

As the masses of students filed toward their designated testing areas, he let himself drift toward the back, silently slipping on his modified gloves, adjusting the hidden mechanisms embedded in his suit. Every piece of gear he'd crafted was tailored for this exact moment, designed not to help him survive, but to dominate.

He flexed his fingers, feeling the reassuring weight of his gauntlets, his mind already ten steps ahead.

While other examinees lingered around, some anxiously chatting, others doing last-minute stretches or hyping themselves up, Izuku Midoriya stood completely still in front of the massive steel gates.

Unlike the others, he wasn't nervous. He wasn't excited. He wasn't even paying attention to the murmurs around him. He was simply ready.

As the seconds ticked down, Katsuki found himself glancing toward the white-haired stranger standing closest to the gate. He wasn't sure why, but something about this guy felt off. An ominous aura radiated from him—not one of fear or hesitation like the other examinees, but of certainty. Of someone who knew exactly what they were about to do.

Katsuki narrowed his eyes, debating whether to say something.

But before he could take a step forward—

BZZZZT!

The gates slammed open, and before anyone could even react, the white-haired teen was already gone.

Izuku launched forward, dashing into the battlefield like a bullet, his speed catching everyone—including Katsuki—completely off guard. He was a blur of motion, his feet barely touching the ground as he propelled himself with perfect control.

In one swift movement, he reached into his bag and pulled out a sleek, metallic staff, twirling it with expert precision as he locked onto the first one-pointer bot that registered him as a target.

The robot's head snapped toward him, its scanners glowing red as its arms lifted, preparing to strike—

Too slow.

With a sharp thwip, Izuku fired a grappling hook from his gauntlet, latching onto the robot's right shoulder. The moment the machine swung its massive arm in an attempt to clothesline him, Izuku ducked low, smoothly sliding beneath the attack like a shadow.

Before his feet even touched the ground again, the rockets in his boots ignited, sending him soaring into the air. Using the momentum of his grapple, he yanked himself forward, twisting midair until he was directly behind the bot.

CLANG!

His staff locked around the back of the robot's neck in a tight chokehold.

With one powerful pull, the reinforced metal rod crushed through the bot's structural support—

KRKSH!

The one-pointer's head detached with a violent snap, sparks flying as its decapitated body stumbled before collapsing into a heap of scrap.

Silence.

For a brief moment, every examinee nearby simply stared.

He had already destroyed a robot. Before anyone else had even moved.

"What the hell are you waiting for?! There are no countdowns in a battle! GO! One student already has twenty points!" Present Mic's voice boomed across the field, snapping the stunned students out of their shock.

Like someone had flipped a switch, the battlefield erupted into chaos as everyone scrambled to attack the bots, but Izuku was already gone, moving with fluid efficiency.

Of course, he would've loved to use his freeze ray—after all, it was perfect for this kind of scenario. But that particular weapon had become his signature. His trademark. A weapon that  had basically become synonymous with him. If he used it, the examiners and faculty would immediately connect the dots.

And that would ruin his fun and his plan.

Yes, Izuku had been training. He refused to let his genius and technological prowess be his only strengths. He wasn't some one-trick pony who relied solely on his inventions. No, he had sharpened his mind and his body.

You don't exactly escape and humiliate the No. 2 Pro Hero on a regular basis without developing real skills outside of just gadgets.

Up in the control room, the U.A. faculty closely monitored the examinees, analyzing their performances and taking notes on potential students. The screens displayed a variety of hopefuls—some excelling, some struggling—but one in particular had everyone's attention.

The white-haired teenager.

The one who had taken the lead immediately and was now tearing through the battlefield with frightening efficiency. He didn't just fight the robots—he dismantled them, each movement executed with calculated purpose. No wasted motion. No hesitation. Just pure, honed skill mixed with high-level technological enhancements. He was also in the lead in both villain and rescue points.

 "Who is that kid?" Cementoss asked, narrowing his eyes as he watched the examinee obliterate another robot with seamless coordination between his weapons and his own sheer physical ability.

Principal Nezu, sitting comfortably in his chair with his ever-present amused expression, tapped a few keys on his console. "Let's find out. I'll pull out his file."

And of course, Izuku couldn't use his real identity. His profile and alias had to be fabricated, meticulously crafted to withstand scrutiny. Initially, he considered using a generic, forgettable Japanese name—something bland enough to blend into the crowd.

But his minions had already suggested a name for him.

The little yellow creatures had been insistent—practically chanting the name at him when he asked for suggestions. It was oddly specific, sounded just a little too villainous, and yet they were adamant that he use it whenever he needed a fake identity.

Izuku had no idea why, but the way they reacted made him suspect this name held some kind of significance to them since they're weirdly attached to it. Made him wonder if it was the name of their previous boss or something.

"His name is Felonious Gru." Principal Nedzu informed.

Cementoss blinked. "Felonious...Gru?"

Ectoplasm raised an eyebrow. "That's...certainly a unique name."

Snipe crossed his arms. "That don't sound like no normal Japanese name to me."

Midnight commented. "Sounds like something out of a villain registry."

Nezu merely chuckled, tail flicking in amusement. "It is an unusual alias, isn't it?" He glanced at the profile, noting the lack of family records, prior school history, or any real background information. Suspiciously vague. As if someone had wanted it to be vague. "But that's not the most interesting part."

With a click, the profile expanded, revealing one crucial detail.

"He's quirkless."

A heavy pause filled the room.

All Might's blue eyes widen in shock. "Quirkless?"

But then again, neither he nor anyone in that room should be that surprised since the literal most popular and admittedly competent villain right now, Deku, is quirkless.

And they had no idea that they were looking right at him.

They all turned back to the screens, watching as the supposed quirkless examinee continued to dominate the battlefield with a combination of sheer physical skill and cutting-edge technology. He weaved through the mechanical enemies with calculated precision, striking them down with almost military-level efficiency.

Power Loader leaned forward, watching the weapons in use. “That gear isn’t amateur work,” he muttered, analyzing Izuku’s tech as it flickered across the screen. “It’s good. Too good for a middle schooler.”

Nezu steepled his paws, humming thoughtfully. “Yes…quite the mystery, isn’t he?”

The faculty continued to watch, their curiosity only growing.

In the background, Eraserhead examined the moves, skillset, and technology that this 'Felonious Gru' was making and couldn't point to why they look so familiar.

Down in the arena, Izuku moved through the battlefield like a specter, dismantling the pointer robots with a mix of raw skill and calculated exploitation of their weaknesses.

Unlike the other students, who were reacting in the moment, he was several steps ahead.

With each encounter, he struck precisely where it counted. While others wasted time wearing down the bots with brute force, he eliminated them with minimal effort. His grappling hook wrapped around the neck of a two-pointer, yanking him onto its back. With a flick of his wrist, his staff extended, jabbing into a small, hidden button at the base of the machine’s head.

The bot shut down instantly.

Izuku grinned. Too easy.

Of course, he had an advantage no one else did.

He knew these robots. He had studied their blueprints. He had hacked into U.A.’s systems long before this exam even began, learning every weak point, every predictable movement pattern.

This was hardly a challenge—it was more like a test run.

His mind briefly wandered to Katsuki. He hadn’t seen him yet, which was unusual. The old Katsuki would’ve made himself impossible to ignore. But Izuku quickly brushed off the thought.

Doesn’t matter.

He checked his watch. Enough time had passed. The top scorers had established themselves, but it was time for him to really shake things up.

He activated a small switch hidden in his glove.

Somewhere deep within U.A.’s system, his planted command executed itself.

It was time to release the zero-pointer.

Up in the control room, suddenly, a cascade of digital noise flickered across the display, the text and images warping into unreadable distortions. The faculty leaned forward, eyes narrowing as the glitch continued for several seconds before finally stabilizing.

The profile was now visible.

Felonious Gru. A quiet, unremarkable middle schooler with no real social standing. Excels in mathematics, engineering, and technology-related fields. Keeps to himself.

There was a moment of silence before Snipe sighed. "Damn tech issues again."

"There it is! I was wondering why his profile was empty." Cementoss said.

Power Loader groaned, rubbing his temples. “Of course it glitches when we try to pull up a file. Every time we think we’ve got our systems fixed, it acts up again.”

Ectoplasm folded his arms. “Considering the damage from that security breach a while back, I wouldn’t be surprised if there are still residual malfunctions.”

Mic let out an awkward chuckle. “Man, we really gotta update our firewalls or something. First, some villain breaks in and trashes our security systems, and now we’re getting random tech glitches? What’s next, the cafeteria robots going rogue?”

The heroes all seemed to brush it off as yet another unfortunate side effect of the damage done to U.A.’s security systems weeks ago when a group of law-breaking punks—or possibly a villain—had broken into school grounds, causing a destructive mess of their motherboard.

None of them knew that the ones responsible weren’t some powerful villain, nor a gang of rebellious criminals.

It was a horde of small, yellow, overall-wearing gremlins.

And at this very moment, those same gremlins were once again meddling with U.A.’s systems.

Back at base, the minions were hard at work. Well…most of them were.

The hideout was filled with the sound of furious keyboard clacking, beeping monitors, and...typical minion chaos.

A single minion sat at the command console, wearing oversized goggles and typing frantically as multiple screens displayed U.A.’s security system. His name was Jay, and he had been personally put in charge of making sure Boss’ fake profile went through without a hitch.

However, some of the other minions…were not helping.

“WOO-HOOOOO!”

A trio of minions had somehow gotten their hands on a fire extinguisher and were now riding it like a rocket across the room, laughing hysterically as they slammed into a pile of spare machinery.

Two others were juggling fruits, except one minion was clearly losing control, eyes wide as the bananas slipped from his hands and went flying—one of them smacking Jay directly in the face.

Kevin let out a loud, frustrated sigh before snapping his fingers and pointing aggressively at the monitor. "Sama to tadda stop! ka'm hacking recha prompo!" He strictly ordered.

The minions immediately scrambled, quickly pretending to look busy.

One of them leaned over Jay's shoulder, tapping the screen repeatedly. “Tata bala tu?”

Kevin facepalmed before swatting him away. "No! no touchy! Boss mo profile—U. A. no verlo rig screen—Kevin fix!"

Just then, another minion tripped over a loose cable, yanking it out of one of the computers, which caused the screen to glitch again. Kevin let out a panicked shriek, quickly jamming it back into place.

BZZZZT— The screen flickered violently before stabilizing, finally showing the fake profile on U.A.’s system.

Kevin wiped the sweat off his forehead. "Phew!"

Meanwhile, back at U.A., Principal Nezu watched the monitor closely, his small paws resting together.

Unlike the others, he didn’t brush off that glitch so easily.

A small smirk curled onto his face as his sharp eyes glinted with interest.

Elsewhere on the battlefield, Katsuki was thriving—but not in the same way he once would have.

If this were months ago, he would have torn through the exam without a single thought for anything except taking first place. His focus would have been solely on winning, proving himself as the strongest, and crushing the competition.

But that wasn’t who he was anymore.

The reality check he had been forced to face—the brutal consequences of his past actions, the weight of what happened to Izuku—had changed him. He knew now that being a hero wasn’t just about raw strength.

It was about more than just winning.

So instead of just tearing through the robots, he was actively paying attention to his surroundings, making sure no one was in danger, adjusting his tactics to help those struggling around him.

A nearby examinee, a short girl with two spray bottles, was cornered by a two-pointer. She continued spraying small bursts of water at the bot, causing mushrooms to grow all around them, slowing them down bit by bit, but they were slowly gaining distance. Her face was twisted in panic.

Katsuki could’ve let her struggle. That was the old him.

Instead, he blasted forward with an explosion, rocketing past her. His palm crackled with power as he launched a precise explosion directly into the bot’s exposed core.

BOOM!

The machine was reduced to scrap. The girl yelped, stumbling back as Katsuki landed in front of her.

She looked up at him, startled. “T-Thanks—”

“Don’t just stand there, dumbass. Move.” Katsuki didn’t wait for a reply before blasting off again.

Despite his harsh tone, something had changed.

He wasn’t just looking out for himself anymore.

But just as he prepared to move to the next set of robots, something shifted in the air.

A distant, mechanical groan echoed across the battlefield.

The ground rumbled.

Every single student froze.

Then, without warning—

A massive crash sounded from one of the distant city structures. A shadow loomed over the battlefield as an enormous shape burst through a collapsing wall.

The Zero-Pointer had arrived.

Except…it had arrived too early.

Inside the U.A. control room, the faculty erupted into chaos.

“Wait—” Present Mic’s voice wavered with genuine alarm. “That thing isn’t supposed to be out yet!”

Power Loader frantically tapped at the control panel, his gloved fingers flying across the keyboard. “I didn’t activate it! It’s not responding to our commands!”

Cementoss frowned deeply. “What is happening? Is it a malfunction?”

“Not likely.” Eraserhead’s voice was cold, calculating. His sharp gaze flickered to the security monitors, scanning for anything unusual. “That thing isn’t glitching—it’s moving with intent.”

Nezu’s ever-present smirk had all but vanished.

The moment the Zero-Pointer burst through the ground, he had gone into immediate analysis mode. And while the others were still scrambling to understand why this was happening, Nezu realized that they weren’t in control of it anymore.

All thoughts about recent glitches or technical malfunctions were immediately shoved aside. The priority now was either regaining control of the rogue Zero-Pointer or evacuating the examinees before it was too late.

The battlefield was in absolute shambles.

The Zero-Pointer, a towering mechanical behemoth, rampaged through the mock city, its massive limbs crushing structures and sending debris flying in every direction. The examinees, once eager to prove themselves, were now running for their lives as Present Mic’s booming voice echoed across the arena.

"THIS IS NOT A DRILL! ALL EXAMINEES EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY!"

And amidst the fleeing crowd was Izuku.

Unlike the others, who were running out of sheer panic, Izuku maintained a calm, controlled pace, expertly blending in with the chaos around him. His heart wasn’t pounding from fear—but from exhilaration.

Because while he looked like just another terrified examinee…

Back at his base, his minions were the ones actually in control.

The underground lair was in a state of absolute bedlam.

A group of minions had gathered around a control panel, their little hands frantically pressing buttons, yanking levers, and laughing maniacally as they piloted the Zero-Pointer like a kid playing a video game.

“Wheeeeeee!” One minion gleefully spun a joystick, causing the massive robot’s head to lurch side to side.

Another minion, wearing oversized pilot goggles, repeatedly slammed a big red button labeled "STOMP", making the Zero-Pointer randomly smash its giant feet into the ground, sending shockwaves across the battlefield.

Jay, the one Izuku had left in charge, was gripping his own headset, grumpily barking orders in Minionese. “Tika bala! no stomp mac mucha! Focus ka-boom!”

He had always been one of the grumpier minions.

Another minion in the corner, distracted, had somehow managed to get his hands on a banana smoothie and was slurping loudly, completely ignoring the chaos.

Another minion, Phil, turned to Jay and grinned. “Jay! Po ka boom?”

But even as someone as grumpy as Jay couldn't resist a good ol' boom. His eyes gleaming with excitement, pointed at the console and yelled—

“KA-BOOM!”

The minions cheered as one of them pressed a button, causing the Zero-Pointer to violently punch through a mock skyscraper, reducing it to rubble.

Meanwhile, Izuku, still in disguise, ran alongside the crowd, deliberately positioning himself among the most panicked students to ensure that he looked just as scared as them.

His movements were perfectly calculated—his breathing just shallow enough to mimic panic, his steps just uneven enough to make it look like he was stumbling.

But inside, he was laughing.

Because while U.A.’s faculty were scrambling to understand what was happening…

While the examinees were running, screaming, and fearing for their lives…

His minions were treating this entire thing like an arcade game.

Izuku allowed himself the smallest smirk behind his mask before replacing it with a forced expression of fear as he dodged a stray piece of falling debris.

At that moment, his eyes flickered toward Katsuki.

Unlike the rest of the examinees, who were purely in survival mode, Katsuki wasn’t just running.

He was fighting.

Izuku’s smirk faltered slightly as he saw the once-arrogant boy now actively saving people, shoving stunned examinees out of harm’s way, launching controlled explosions to push back falling rubble, and even dragging a kid by the collar before he got crushed.

For a split second, Izuku felt something unexpected.

Huh. Look at that.

Katsuki Bakugo was actually acting like a hero.

Not that it mattered.

Because even if he was trying to change, even if he was acting differently than before…

Izuku shook his head. He wasn’t the same either.

“Help! Somebody—please, I’m stuck!”

Izuku skidded to a stop, glancing over his shoulder.

A girl was pinned beneath a pile of rubble, her brown hair messy and dust coating her pink cheeks. She struggled to move, her legs trapped under a collapsed section of a broken wall. Her frantic eyes locked onto his.

For a moment, Izuku considered just leaving her there.

It wasn’t like she was his problem.

But then again...I suppose a few more rescue points wouldn't hurt, Izuku thought.

And even though he had no intention of actually passing this exam and entering U.A, the idea of further cementing his status as the undisputed top scorer was too good to pass up.

He let out a dramatic sigh, muttering under his breath, "I swear, I'm too good at playing the hero."

With a burst of movement, Izuku rushed to her side and assessed the situation. The debris wasn’t too heavy—it would only take a bit of effort to move it.

“Try not to squirm,” he said, already reaching for the largest chunk of rubble. With the aid of his exo-gloves, he lifted it effortlessly, tossing it aside with ease that most examinees would struggle to match.

The girl gasped in relief as she wiggled her legs free.

Izuku extended a hand, and she eagerly took it.

“Thanks!” she panted, finally standing up and dusting herself off. “Thought I was in real danger there!”

Izuku had to suppress a chuckle at the cruel irony of it all.

Yeah, he thought in twisted amusement, the danger I put you in.

He gave her a small nod, playing the part of the humble, helpful hero-in-the-making.

“No problem,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but reassuring. “Be more careful next time.”

The girl smiled brightly. “Oh! I’m Ochako Uraraka, by the way! What’s your name?”

Izuku hesitated for a fraction of a second before smoothly responding, “I-,er, Gru. Felonious Gru.”

Ochako blinked. “That’s...an interesting name.”

Izuku just smiled. "Oh, you have no idea."

Ochako was even more confused.

Sounds of destruction filled the battlefield, shaking the ground beneath them.

Ochako turned back toward the towering Zero-Pointer, its mechanical body looming over the ruins of the mock city like some kind of kaiju from an old disaster film.

“Oh, crap!” she yelped. “We gotta move! That thing is gonna flatten us!”

She grabbed Izuku’s wrist and tugged him along as they broke into a sprint.

Izuku followed her lead, keeping up with ease—but his mind was elsewhere. As they ran, he subtly pressed two fingers to his ear, activating his hidden earpiece.

“Status report,” he murmured, careful to keep his voice low as he adjusted his noise-canceling mask to block out any sound from reaching Ochako’s ears.

A garbled mess of Minionese responded in his ear, before the minion he put in charge of this, Jay, took over.

"To're een prima lugo!First place! no bibown! zzz vumjug!"

Izuku grinned, perfect.

His plan was complete and he had dominated this exam.

But now came the important part—covering his tracks.

“Alright,” he whispered into the earpiece. “Shut it down. Restore U.A.’s control over the system and wipe everything. I don’t want a single trace left behind.”

Another round of frantic Minion chatter ensued, followed by a confident, “En pik, Deku!”

Izuku smirked beneath his mask.

Just like that, every bit of evidence that pointed back to him would be erased.

As far as U.A. was concerned, the Zero-Pointer had simply glitched and gone rogue. No signs of tampering, no leads to follow—just an unfortunate accident that they’d have to explain away to the examinees.

Soon enough, after the dust settles and the zero-pointer was being examined, the exam was announced over.

“AND THAT’S TIME! THE PRACTICAL EXAM IS OFFICIALLY OVER!” Came the voice of Present Mic through the speakers.

Ochako let out a breath of relief, wiping sweat from her forehead. “Wow… that was way more intense than I thought it’d be.”

Izuku simply chuckled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Oh, you have no idea.”

“All examinees, please return to the main entrance immediately. The U.A. faculty has an important announcement.”

Confused murmurs spread through the crowd, but no one dared to disobey. With weary steps, the students made their way back to where they had first gathered before the exam.

Izuku knew what was up.

The Zero-Pointer incident had thrown U.A. into complete disarray. The faculty was rattled, and now, they were trying to contain the situation by addressing it upfront.

Still, this was unexpected.

Had his minions missed something while covering their tracks?

No…that was impossible.

He kept his posture relaxed, but inside, his mind was already running through every possible angle.

As the examinees assembled, they saw the entire U.A faculty, minus Eraserhead, standing upon a stage presenting a large, blank screen behind them. Eventually, everyone sees Principal Nezu approach to the front spot where he can see and address to the crowd of examinees.

“Greetings, young examinees!” Nezu’s voice rang through the crowd. “First and foremost, allow me to personally apologize for today’s…unexpected developments.”

The crowd went silent.

“We deeply regret the mishap that led to the early release of the Zero-Pointer.” Nezu’s expression remained polite, but those with a keen eye—like Izuku—could see the glimmer of suspicion hiding behind his beady little eyes. “Rest assured, we are conducting a full investigation into this incident to ensure that such an error does not occur again.”

Izuku fought back a smirk.

Oh, good luck with that.

Nezu clasped his paws together. “That said! Since today’s exam had an…unprecedented level of difficulty, we have decided to expedite the results process.”

The crowd gasped.

“Ordinarily, examinees receive their results in the following weeks. However, given today’s events, we have chosen to announce the top ten highest scorers now, especially the stand out who had garnered first place. Not only that, we also intend to announce an important message.”

Nezu continued, his voice lighthearted but firm. “These ten individuals have officially secured their place in U.A.’s Hero Course and will be receiving their acceptance letters shortly.”

Excited whispers rippled through the crowd. Some clenched their fists in nervous anticipation, others looked on in dread.

But Izuku?

Behind his mask, he was grinning.

After all… he already knew exactly who would be sitting in the #1 spot.

And he hadn't even needed to cheat.

For all the hacking, manipulation, and chaos he’d orchestrated behind the scenes, this? This was the one thing he hadn't tampered with. Because what would be the point?

He couldn't claim victory over all these quirk users if he lied about the results.

No—he had won fair and square.

Which is why, when Principal Nezu called out the name, his name, the name that would soon become legendary—

"Felonious Gru. Step forth."

—Izuku’s pulse spiked.

His body remained still, his face neutral, but inside, his mind raced.

Had Nezu figured it out? Had the faculty pieced together who he really was? Was this a trap? Were pro heroes about to drop down from the ceiling and ambush him on the spot?

Had his own arrogance finally been his downfall?

Nonetheless, he had no time to linger on that as he obliged Nezu's words. His fingers subtly twitched toward the small flashbang pellets in his pocket, ready to disappear in an instant if things went south.

Principal Nezu gestured toward him, presenting the disguised Izuku toward the crowd. "This boy has broken all U.A. records, showing unparalleled skill, tactical brilliance, and the true qualities of a hero."

Izuku could feel the weight of those words pressing down on the crowd, the stunned disbelief radiating from his fellow examinees. He could not hep but suppress his chuckle on how ironic that statement is.

And then Nezu dropped the real bombshell.

"And above all…he is quirkless."

Silence.

Utter, deafening silence.

Then—

A wave of audible shock rippled through the students, gasps and murmurs breaking out like wildfire.

"Wait—WHAT?! A QUIRKLESS KID BROKE THE RECORD?!"

"HOW IS THAT EVEN POSSIBLE?!"

"That guy—Felonious—he was the one destroying all those robots?! No way!"

"But… but I barely got past ten points! How the hell did he—?!"

On the outside, Izuku appeared emotionless, but on the inside, it was the complete opposite. He was reveling in everyone's reactions, making his whole mission of being petty all worth it. 'Hahahahaha! That's right! Beware my quirkless might! Worship me! Tremble at my superiority' He thought almost maniacally. He was truly feeling like he was becoming the despicable, Machiavellian, and greatest villain he wanted to be.

He had never felt such pure, unfiltered satisfaction in his entire life.

Watching all these so-called future heroes, the same type of people who once laughed at him, mocked him, told him he could never be strong, now standing there in complete disbelief—

It was exquisite.

Now, he was beginning to understand why Katsuki had loved having people constantly praise and admire him.

Having a crowd of lessers stare at you in awe, realizing that you were beyond them, superior in every way…

It was a rush.

And it was the one thing they both can agree on. Even if one of them didn't exactly feel that way anymore.

Principal Nezu continued. "This should not come as a bigger surprise to you as it is. You all are aware of the popular quirkless villain, Deku, right?" Izuku felt a faint jolt of tension crawl down his spine.

Was this it?

Had Nezu finally caught him?

Had all his meticulous planning failed?

He forced himself to remain composed, standing perfectly still as if the mention of the infamous villain had no effect on him. 

But Nezu continued as if nothing was amiss. “I bring him up for a specific reason,” he said smoothly. “In recent times, we have been shown that quirks are not everything. Deku has proven that, in his own unfortunate way. And now, Mr. Gru here has shown us that the quirkless can be heroes just as they can be villains. That they are just as capable as anyone else.”

The murmurs grew as students exchanged uncertain glances, clearly not sure what to make of the comparison.

And yet, despite himself, Izuku found his own curiosity piqued. After calming down, he was wondering where the rodent principal was going with this.

Nezu was making a point. But what point?

Was this some veiled attempt to push for a more inclusive, non-discriminatory stance toward the quirkless?

A noble sentiment.

And one that Izuku would suspect that most people would inevitably ignore the moment the conversation died down.

Or…

Was U.A. hoping to create their own version of Deku? A hero version of him?

A quirkless hero to stand against the quirkless villain?

The thought nearly made Izuku laugh. Maybe in another universe, that would've been reality.

A quirkless hero and a quirkless villain...facing off in a world that rejects them both.

How poetic, Izuku thought.

Too bad for them, I'm technically both of them right now.

Nezu’s smile remained as he clasped his paws together, addressing the crowd once more.

“I have done this not just to commend Mr. Gru for his outstanding performance,” he continued, his voice filled with deliberate intent, “but also to personally present him with his letter of acceptance into U.A.’s Hero Course.”

A fresh wave of stunned reactions spread through the crowd.

Principal Nezu himself offering a personal acceptance? That was practically unheard of!

Izuku kept his expression neutral, but internally, he was reeling.

Oh. Oh, that’s interesting.

Nezu wasn’t just using this moment to acknowledge his achievements—he was leveraging it.

He wasn’t just extending a hand to a quirkless student…

He was turning this into a lesson.

“To all of you,” Nezu continued, sweeping his gaze over the examinees, “let this be a reminder. A lesson that I hope you all take to heart.”

He gestured toward Izuku.

“Never again should anyone underestimate someone simply for being quirkless. Never again should you assume that power is defined by quirks alone.”

A few of the students shifted uncomfortably.

Nezu’s expression turned serious. “For too long, our society has clung to the belief that quirks are the end-all, be-all of heroism. And while quirks are an incredible gift, they do not determine one’s strength of heart, intelligence, or potential.”

Izuku almost scoffed.

Sure. Keep telling yourselves that.

The speech was admirable, would've inspired the old Izuku, sure, but it wasn’t going to change a damn thing. He knew how this world worked.

They could say all the right things, put on their little performances…

But at the end of the day, the moment someone quirkless failed in a crisis, society would immediately revert to their old way of thinking.

Quirkless people had no place in the world of heroes.

At least, that’s what he believed.

Nezu held out an envelope, the official U.A. Acceptance Letter, and smiled warmly. “Felonious Gru, I would be honored to welcome you to U.A.”

A hush fell over the crowd.

Everyone was waiting to see his reaction.

And Izuku?

He did what no one expected.

He bowed his head slightly in gratitude…

…and then took a step back.

“I’m afraid I must decline.”

The murmurs turned into full-blown gasps.

Even Nezu’s expression briefly flickered with surprise.

Izuku exhaled deeply, making a show of looking humbled by the offer. “I appreciate the opportunity—truly, I do,” he said, his voice calm, steady, yet filled with an air of quiet finality. “But I didn’t come here to become a hero.”

The faculty stiffened.

“I only came here to prove a point.”

He turned toward the assembled students, his sharp eyes sweeping over them. “I came here to show all of you that quirks aren’t everything. That if someone like me—someone quirkless—can rise above all of you, then maybe…” He let his words linger before chuckling softly. “Maybe the next generation of heroes should strive to be better.”

He wasn’t smug about it. He wasn’t boastful.

He was humble.

And that made his words cut even deeper.

Because it forced everyone listening to confront the truth.

He had beaten them.

Fairly.

Without a quirk.

And if they wanted to make excuses? If they wanted to pretend that he didn’t just utterly outclass them?

Then that was their problem.

Izuku let the silence stretch before he offered Nezu a polite nod. “Thank you for the experience. I hope U.A. continues to do great things.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Leaving behind a stunned, speechless crowd.

And one very amused principal.

As Izuku went on his way to finally exit U.A, he was stopped by a voice calling out to him. "Young Gru! Wait!"

Izuku had to suppress the sheer surge of emotions that threatened to rise when he heard that familiar voice. Instead, he put on his best polite confusion and tilted his head slightly.

"Can I help you, sir?" he asked, his voice perfectly measured.

He had to pretend.

Pretend he didn’t know exactly who this man was.

Pretend he didn’t hate him.

Pretend that, even now, the mere sight of him didn’t send a slow, simmering fury bubbling beneath his skin.

Toshinori, looking uncharacteristically nervous, finally caught up, resting his hands on his knees as he took a breath.

“Young Gru…I have a question, my boy.”

Izuku folded his arms, masking his bored expression. “Sure. Shoot.”

Toshinori straightened, his brows furrowing. There was something tired about his gaze, something deeply reflective.

"About a year ago, there was a boy."

Izuku’s fingers curled slightly in his sleeves.

"Oh?" he responded neutrally.

Toshinori inhaled sharply before continuing.

“A boy who once looked up to All Might—who idolized him. A boy who had the biggest dream of becoming a hero but was…born without a quirk.”

Izuku fought the urge to scoff.

Oh. We’re doing this now?

Toshinori continued, oblivious to the dry amusement growing behind Izuku’s neutral gaze.

"One day, that boy asked All Might if someone like him could be a hero. And at the time, All Might…denied him."

Izuku hummed, feigning intrigue. "That so?"

Toshinori's shoulders sagged. "He told him it wasn’t possible—that without a quirk, he could never become a hero."

Yeah.

That boy was me, you clueless idiot.

Izuku kept his expression unreadable, despite the absolute bitterness crawling up his throat.

Toshinori exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “That boy was Deku and I don’t know if that was what truly set him down the path of villainy, but…looking back now, I regret what I said.”

Izuku nearly laughed.

Oh, so now you regret it?

After watching me burn down an entire society-approved institution and tearing through pro heroes like paper? After seeing me on the news for months, making a mockery of everything you stand for?

Now you regret it?

Funny how that works.

Toshinori’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “After witnessing Deku overwhelm actual pro heroes, and watching you break U.A.'s records without a quirk, I finally understand.” His gaze met Izuku’s, raw and solemn.

"A quirk…doesn’t make a hero."

Izuku’s eye twitched.

Oh, that’s rich.

That's so rich coming from you. You who was probably one of those children who was worn with a powerful quirk and having society only be favorable toward people like you. You who was probably one of those children who whose parents fed every meal to you on a platter and silver spoon.

You who probably don't know what it's like to to suffer in life being quirkless in this world!

Even if Toshinori had already learned this lesson long ago, he just had to make sure. Just had to seek some absolution.

And Izuku?

Izuku was annoyed.

So, just to mess with him a little, he tilted his head in mock innocence.

"Is this all true what you’re saying?" he asked, eyes blinking curiously. "Or is this all just hypothetical?"

Toshinori stiffened. “N-No! It’s true.”

Izuku let his expression shift just slightly—just enough to make Toshinori question himself.

Like a predator playing with its food.

“What exactly are you asking me, sir?” Izuku prompted smoothly.

Toshinori, clearly uncertain now, took a slow breath.

"I…I just want to know one thing."

His voice wavered.

"What do you think All Might could’ve done differently…when he met Deku that day?"

Izuku froze for half a second.

Then, slowly, his lips curled into a smirk.

Oh.

Oh, this was too good.

He took a step forward, just enough to invade Toshinori’s space, his hazel-blue contact-covered eyes gleaming.

"You really want to know?" he asked, voice low, almost mockingly sincere.

Toshinori swallowed, nodding.

Izuku's grin widened.

And oh, did he have the perfect answer for him.

“What do I think All Might should’ve done differently?” Izuku repeated, as if carefully considering the question.

Toshinori nodded, his expression earnest, filled with the weight of genuine regret.

And for a brief moment, for the tiniest fraction of a second—Izuku thought about telling him.

Telling him everything.

That he was too late. That no amount of regret, no amount of reflection, would ever undo what had already been done.

That Izuku had spent years waiting, praying, that his idol would one day look at him and say:

"You can do it."

"I believe in you."

But he never did.

So Izuku became someone who didn’t need anyone’s approval anymore.

Not from society.
Not from heroes.
And certainly not from him.

Instead, Izuku sighed, shaking his head with a disappointed chuckle.

“You know, it’s funny,” he mused, stepping away slightly. “I used to think All Might was infallible. That he was someone who could never be wrong. But now?”

His gaze flicked up to meet Toshinori’s again, his tone laced with something mockingly thoughtful.

"Now I think he was just...short-sighted."

Toshinori’s expression fell.

Izuku exhaled dramatically. “Imagine it.” He gestured vaguely, his voice now taking on an almost storyteller-like quality.

"A boy approaches his hero—his idol—and asks if he can be just like him one day."

Toshinori tensed.

"But instead of encouragement, instead of hope, something that All Might had given so many other people, the boy is given nothing but rejection." Izuku sighed, shaking his head. "Now, I’m not saying that was the moment that broke him, but…well."

He let that hang in the air.

Toshinori looked away, guilt flashing across his face.

Izuku tilted his head, his smirk returning. “If you ask me? I think All Might should’ve just done one thing differently.”

Toshinori glanced at him. “And what’s that?”

Izuku’s grin widened.

"He should’ve kept his damn mouth shut."

The words hit like a gunshot.

Toshinori’s eyes widened.

Izuku took a step back, stretching his arms behind his head with a mocking sigh of relief. “But hey, what do I know? I’m just some random guy who got first place in your entrance exam without a quirk.” He flashed a mock-polite smile. “Thanks for the chat, sir.”

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away.

Toshinori stood frozen in place, haunted by the words that now echoed in his mind.

"He should’ve kept his damn mouth shut."

And for the first time in years, Toshinori felt something cold settle deep in his chest.

A feeling that told him, no matter what he did…

…He might have already lost Izuku Midoriya forever.

The child he failed to save.

I may have lost Young Midoriya. Toshinori thought as he looked at Izuku walking away. But maybe, I can save Young Gru from falling down the same path!

Oh, Toshinori, you absolute clueless fool.

But Toshinori wasn’t ready to let him go just yet.

"Young Gru!" he called out once more, jogging up to the white-haired teen. Izuku internally sighed but turned around with a polite expression.

"Yes, sir?"

Toshinori hesitated for a moment before finally asking, "And...are you truly certain that you do not want to attend U.A.?"

"No."

It was a simple, firm answer.

And yet, so much was buried beneath it.

A single word carrying an entire lifetime of rejection, resentment, and burnt bridges.

Toshinori exhaled, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Very well…I will respect your decision.”

He hesitated, as if debating whether to say what was on his mind.

Then, after a brief pause, he smiled.

"But just so you know, had you accepted…I think you would have made a fine hero. Even without a quirk."

Izuku’s expression didn’t change.

He leaned into a perfectly practiced bow of gratitude, his posture remaining respectful.

"Thank you."

But inside?

Inside, he was fighting every urge to scoff.

Wow.

Wow, really?

Izuku couldn’t help but think, Gee, thanks for the words of encouragement, All Might! Would’ve been real nice to hear them—oh, I don’t know—A YEAR AGO?!

With that, Izuku was off. And to get his mind off of what just happened as to not anger him even more after such a great day, he thought back about everything that had happened today.

As for the written exam? He did well in that too. Since he had hacked to access all of U.A.'s resources, he naturally knew the answers to those questions. After all, Deku had become a villain. All that honor and integrity bullshit were thrown out the window the moment he took on that role.

It’s cheating, sure, but even without this advantage, Izuku felt confident he would have answered most—if not all—of those questions correctly. Besides, most of them were relatively straightforward, with only a couple being particularly complex.

'What is the true meaning of a hero?'

'What are their most important priorities?'

'Where, when, and how did the term "hero" originate?' 

Izuku couldn't help but scoff at how anyone could fail these questions. How can I possibly understand heroism better than those who didn’t pass? And I'm supposed to be the villain here!

He scowled. Their quirks probably got into their heads, he thought.

His thoughts were interrupted as he finally spotted the U.A. exit gates, but before he could reach them, another figure stepped into his path. Izuku felt an overwhelming urge to punch the next person who dared to stop him.

"Oi."

And ff course, it had to be Katsuki—his lifelong bully. Izuku's irritation flared even more at the sight of him. Before he could muster a proper greeting, Katsuki cut straight to the chase.

"Why did you reject it?"

"Wow, going straight for the jugular, huh—"

"Answer the damn question." 

Izuku's brow twitched in annoyance. Still as rude as ever, aren't you?

But then Katsuki took a deep breath and tried again with a touch of restrained intensity. "Why did you reject U.A.? Even for someone quirkless like you, you could've been...I dunno, a symbol of hope or something. For the quirkless."

Izuku blinked in disbelief. Was Katsuki actually...concerned? Regretful? The realization struck him like a bolt from the blue: his self-absorbed tormentor was showing some semblance of consideration for someone other than himself? And toward the quirkless nonetheless?!

'Who are you?!' Izuku couldn't help but wonder. 

Huh...maybe he has changed. But that didn’t erase over a decade’s worth of physical and verbal abuse; no matter how much Katsuki seemed different now, that history couldn’t easily be wiped away. Izuku still hated him.

Still, Izuku decided to answer honestly. "Because being a hero was a dream that died out long ago." He pulled out his phone, trying to mask the tension in his voice.

As much as he loathed having to engage with Katsuki—his lifelong tormentor—this unexpected opportunity was too valuable to waste. Even if Katsuki had seemingly changed for the better, Izuku had bigger plans in mind. 

“Wait,” Katsuki said, brows furrowing slightly. “What do you mean it died out? You seriously think you can just give up on something like that?”

Izuku’s heart raced at the challenge in Katsuki's tone, but he maintained his composure. “A true hero isn’t defined by their dreams; it’s about actions and choices.” He glanced at the screen of Katsuki's phone as covertly as possible while attempting to sound profound.

“What makes someone a true hero then?” Katsuki stepped closer, curiosity flickering in his eyes—a spark Izuku hadn’t expected. 

“It’s not just about power or glory,” Izuku responded. Truthfully, he was just drawing from an old speech he’d seen online from a well-known pro-hero. “It’s about courage and selflessness...Protecting those who can’t protect themselves.” 

Katsuki narrowed his gaze but seemed intrigued nonetheless. “Selflessness? You really think you can be selfless when everyone turns their backs on you?”

“No one turned their back on me,” Izuku replied calmly while typing away silently on his phone without drawing attention. "I just realized I don’t need anyone else to validate my worth."

 Katsuki crossed his arms defensively, but there was something different in how he held himself this time—almost contemplative rather than aggressive.  “But if someone has potential…” He hesitated before continuing carefully. “They should use it for good.”

Izuku seized the moment—not only for conversation but also for what lay beneath it all: access to U.A.'s secrets through Katsuki's unwitting cooperation. 

“Exactly!” He nodded enthusiastically except this enthusiasm served more as bait than genuine excitement for him now. “And sometimes that means making sacrifices or taking risks—even when others doubt you.” 

“What kind of risks are we talking about here?” Katsuki pressed further, unknowingly edging closer to Izuku’s ultimate goal. 

“Oh you know…things like studying your competition, yada-yada-yada,” Izuku said casually while stealing another glance at his phone screen where delicate lines of code began sorting through crucial information—the quirks of every aspiring hero within U.A.’s walls were now at his fingertips. They continued conversing until Izuku had finally finished hacking Katsuki's phone unknowingly.

Since Katsuki was now attending U.A., Izuku saw a prime opportunity unfold before him. He could turn his longtime rival into an unwitting informant—someone who would unknowingly act as his eyes and ears within the prestigious academy. 

With Katsuki right there, he could keep tabs on everything happening at U.A., especially anything that related to the explosive-haired boy himself. The plans was simple: gather information, monitor every move, anticipate their strategies, and leave them bewildered while they wondered how Deku always seemed to be one step ahead. Sure, indulging in pettiness was at the core of his mission—but this encounter held potential far beyond mere revenge. 

Not only had he beaten everyone here, but also had learned the quirks of every single person there when he hacked into U.A. And of course he had written all of them down in his notebook. 

He may be a villain now, but that part of him of always being curious about quirks and overly analyzing them never truly died.

Their conversation reached its natural conclusion as Katsuki glanced at the disguised Izuku with a mix of appreciation and newfound realization. “I see. Thank you for your insight,” he said.

Izuku bowed politely before finally gong out about his way. "You're welcome."

No, thank you, Katsuki. Izuku thought as he could hear and see and hear everything through Katsuki's phone. A devious grin formed beneath his mask. I suppose I should actually be grateful to you for once.

Chapter Text

Principal Nezu sat in his office, a warm cup of tea in one paw and a stack of freshly organized student files in the other. The scent of ink and parchment filled the room as he quietly reviewed the accepted students for this year's U.A. Class 1-A. Each candidate had their strengths, their quirks, their ambitions—all expected from those aspiring to be pro heroes.

And yet...

His mind kept drifting back to one particular student. Or rather, the one who wasn't a student.

Felonius Gru.

Nezu tapped his claws against the polished wooden desk, his beady black eyes narrowing slightly as he stared at the name on his screen. A quirkless boy had shattered U.A.'s records, obliterated the entrance exam, and then—without hesitation—rejected the very opportunity most would kill for. It was fascinating.

Why go through all that trouble just to walk away?

The boy had claimed it was to "prove a point," but was that really all there was to it? Something didn't quite add up. A quirkless individual, no matter how intelligent or well-trained, shouldn't have been able to do what he did. Even beyond his combat ability, Nezu had noted the brief but curious glitch in U.A.'s system when they attempted to pull his file.

His lips curled into a small, amused smile. How intriguing.

Nezu took a sip of his tea, relishing the warmth as he pondered the enigma that was Felonius Gru. He had met many remarkable individuals in his time, but this boy...he was different.

And Nezu was determined to find out why.

Just as he was about to revisit the footage of the exam for any overlooked details, his email notification pinged. The subject line caught his attention immediately. Nezu's ears twitched as he glanced at the sender.

Masaru & Mitsuki Bakugou.

Curious, he clicked it open and scanned the contents.

Subject: Regarding Our Son, Katsuki Bakugou

Dear Principal Nezu,

We are writing to request a personal meeting regarding our son, Katsuki Bakugou, who has recently been accepted into U.A. There are some important matters concerning his past behavior that we believe should be addressed directly with you.

To put it simply, Katsuki's file does not reflect the full picture of the kind of person he was before now. While he is strong, determined, and passionate, he has also hurt people. And those actions should not go unnoticed or unpunished.

We ask to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this further. We are not making excuses for our son—only ensuring that the school is aware of what he has done, and that he is held accountable moving forward.

Sincerely,
Masaru & Mitsuki Bakugou

Nezu's small paws curled under his chin as he read the message twice over.

Katsuki Bakugou...an abuser?

That was not something mentioned anywhere in his U.A. file. On paper, Katsuki was an exceptional student—top of his class, powerful quirk, unmatched combat potential. There was no record of any disciplinary actions against him.

But if his own parents were reaching out to reveal otherwise...

Nezu's grin stretched ever so slightly.

"How intriguing."

He quickly began drafting his reply. This was something worth looking into.

The neon glow of Mustafu's bustling cityscape reflected off Izuku's visor as he perched atop a rooftop, peering down at the street below through high-tech binoculars.

Another day, another completely unnecessary, entirely ridiculous, undeniably petty crime spree.

It wasn't just about causing trouble—well, okay, maybe it was mostly about that—but this was also a learning opportunity. Every crime he committed was a test, an experiment, a lesson in how heroes operated. He wasn't just wreaking havoc for the sake of it (although that was fun). He was studying hero response times, analyzing their tactics, and figuring out exactly how to outplay them before they even knew they were being played.

His experiments weren't just about chaos anymore. They were teaching him how heroes operated.

For example:

• Endeavor always rushed in alone, too proud to wait for backup.
• Hawks responded fastest but prioritized evacuation over confrontation.
• Manual was slow but methodical—he double-checked crime scenes others overlooked.

Izuku smirked. He wasn't just a menace anymore. He was gathering intel, learning their patterns, perfecting his craft.

Soon, they wouldn't even know what hit them. And tonight's lesson? Bank security systems and hero response efficiency.

"Alright, boys," Izuku said, lowering his binoculars and turning to his crew of minions huddled behind him. "Standard drill. In, out, no delays. And for the love of all things evil, do not get distracted."

The minions all nodded in comically exaggerated seriousness.

Izuku took a deep breath. This was already going to go wrong.

Still, he had to try.

"Alright, let's move." He signaled for the minions to follow, then leaped off the rooftop, using his grappling hook to swing toward the bank's side entrance. The minions, lacking such a sophisticated tool, simply threw themselves off the rooftop, bouncing off awnings and landing in a tangled heap.

Izuku pinched the bridge of his nose. Already, they were testing his patience. By the time he reached the entrance, the minions were dusting themselves off like nothing happened.

"Okay," Izuku whispered, pulling out a small device and hacking the security panel next to the back door. "We have exactly four minutes before the first patrol swings by. We get in, grab the cash, and get out before—"

CLANG.

Izuku flinched. Slowly, painfully, he turned his head.

One of the minions was shoving a banana into the keycard slot.

His eye twitched.

"What. Are. You. DOING?" Izuku hissed through clenched teeth.

The minion shrugged playfully, not taking the situation seriously. "Nupi-banana?"

"THAT'S NOT HOW ELECTRONICS WORK!"

The minion, seemingly undeterred, gave the banana one final shove. To Izuku's horror, the keypad beeped green. The door unlocked.

He blinked.

The minions cheered.

"...I hate you all," Izuku muttered before stepping inside.

The bank was eerily silent, save for the soft hum of security cameras. Izuku moved quickly, dodging between desks as he reached the main vault. His hacked blueprints of the bank told him exactly where to go—straight to the emergency override panel that would unlock the vault without triggering any alarms.

He turned to the minions. "Alright, just stand there and don't touch anything while I—"

A minion was already climbing into the air vents.

Another was picking up a desk phone, pressing random buttons.

One minion had found a sharpie and was now drawing a mustache on a framed photo of the bank's CEO.

Izuku inhaled deeply. "I am so close to snapping." Where's Mel when you need him?

Before he could rein them in, the vault door hissed open—his hack was a success.

At last. Some competence.

"Alright, grab as much as you can and—"

One minion had already stuffed an entire pile of cash into his overalls, inflating him like a balloon.

Another had somehow ended up inside an ATM machine.

Izuku stared. "How...? No. You know what? No questions. Just MOVE."

Just as they stuffed their bags full of money, the bank alarm suddenly blared.

Not because of Izuku.

Because one of the minions thought the giant red panic button was a vending machine.

Izuku let out the longest, most exhausted sigh of his life. "Of course."

Outside, sirens wailed. Hero response teams were already on their way.

"Alright, Plan B!" Izuku shouted, activating his jet boosters and grappling hook, making his way toward the bank's roof.

The minions?

They simply ran out the front door, screaming.

"OH MY GOD," Izuku groaned as he grabbed two of them and took off into the air.

Below, heroes were already scrambling into position.

And leading the charge?

Endeavor.

Izuku sighed, already mentally preparing himself for another round of "Deku vs. the Flaming Meathead."

Here we go again.

Izuku groaned audibly as he spotted Endeavor charging toward him, flames roaring in the sky. Again with this guy. It was like the No. 2 Hero had made it his personal mission to be an obstacle in Izuku's life.

Endeavor pointed a flaming hand at him. "DEKU! SURRENDER NOW!"

Izuku, hovering midair with his jet boosters, tilted his head, visibly unimpressed. "Enji, buddy, pal—do you ever get tired of this? I feel like we've been through this exact scenario at least nine times now."

"Shut up and—"

"Because I feel like we have a routine at this point." Izuku stretched theatrically. "You show up, yell my name dramatically, launch some fire at me—oh, wait, let me guess, Prominence Burn?"

Endeavor snarled, flames flaring brighter.

Izuku grinned internally. Called it.

"And then I dodge, tease you a little, escape, and you're left seething while your PR team scrambles to convince the public that you're still competent."

"ENOUGH!" Endeavor roared, rocketing toward him, a fiery inferno of righteous fury.

Izuku sighed, already maneuvering to dodge—

Only for his minions to handle the fight for him.

By accident.

As Endeavor lunged forward, a single rogue minion rolled straight into his path on a stolen office chair.

"WHEEEEE—"

BAM.

Endeavor tripped over the minion at full speed, flipping headfirst into a nearby car.

Izuku blinked.

The minion blinked.

"...Bello?"

Before Endeavor could recover, another minion—who had somehow armed himself with a fire extinguisher—began blindly spraying it everywhere as he few around erratically on the extinguisher.

Including directly into Endeavor's face.

Izuku wheezed as Endeavor stumbled back, coughing up foam and looking like a snowman.

"What—what the HELL—?!" Endeavor sputtered, trying to wipe his eyes.

But the chaos didn't stop there.

A group of minions had commandeered a nearby police motorcycle and were now speeding directly at him.

One of them had a banana.

Izuku's gut told him that banana was about to be crucial.

And he was right.

At the last second, the minion driving the motorcycle slipped on the banana peel he himself had dropped.

CRASH.

The motorcycle skidded out from under them, spinning wildly—straight into Endeavor's legs.

The No. 2 hero collapsed like a falling tree.

Right into an open dumpster.

The lid snapped shut.

For a moment, there was silence.

Izuku stared.

The minions stared.

The security cameras in the bank? They stared.

Endeavor, Japan's No. 2 Pro Hero, had just been accidentally dumpstered by a group of tiny, yellow chaos gremlins.

The minions slowly turned to look at Izuku, awaiting his reaction. Izuku slowly lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I—I don't even—how? HOW?!"

The minions cheered. Izuku exhaled sharply through his nose, then chuckled. Then outright cackled. "Hahahahahah! Okay," he admitted between laughs. "That...that was beautiful...!"

He could already imagine the headlines.

"No. 2 Pro Hero Defeated by Tiny Yellow Menace—In a Dumpster."

Endeavor's PR team must be having a collective stroke.

"You know what?" Izuku wiped a tear from his eye. "You guys completely made up for almost blowing the mission earlier."

The minions cheered again.

Now, with Endeavor contained (Literally. And in a trash can, no less), the path was clear for their escape. Izuku activated his jetpack and signaled to the minions. "Alright, time to go before any competent heroes show up!"

The minions all activated their own jetpacks.

(Yes, Izuku had given them jetpacks. He was still regretting it.)

As they soared into the night, leaving the dazed, dumpstered Endeavor behind, Izuku sighed contentedly.

"Another successful heist."

And another hilarious L for Endeavor.

The next morning, the internet was on fire.

Videos of Endeavor's humiliating takedown had gone viral. The security camera footage from the bank had leaked.

Social media had a field day.

🔥 FLAMETHROWER23 @FlameKing • 6h ago
Ayo...Deku didn't even need to be the one to clown Endeavor this time. His minions did it FOR him. I'm crying 😭😭😭

🔁 49.1K Retweets 💬 11.5K Comments ❤️ 98.3K Likes

😂 TRASHCANHERO @BinBoiHero • 2h ago
BREAKING NEWS: No. 2 Hero Endeavor defeated by a bunch of yellow Tic-Tacs and a banana peel. I just KNOW that his PR team is in SHAMBLES rn

🔁 63.8K Retweets 💬 20K Comments ❤️ 140K Likes

🤣 BANANAGANG @FruitOfChaos • 10m ago
The fact that Endeavor is 1-6(I think? Who the hell knows by now) against Deku is bad enough. But now he got clapped by MINIONS?! HELP-I CAN'T-

🔁 30.2K Retweets 💬 9.1K Comments ❤️ 82K Likes

Meanwhile, back at the Todoroki household...

Shoto stared at his phone, watching the footage on repeat.

His father.

The No. 2 Pro Hero.

Absolutely humiliated.

By minions, no less.

Minions.

Slowly, a grin stretched across Shoto's face.

He pressed play again. All the while, he could hear Natsuo in another room absolutely cackling in laughter. Seems like he's watching the news as well. And is more than willing to show how he feels about it.

Izuku tapped his fingers against his chin, deep in thought as he strolled through the dimly lit alleyway after his escape from the heroes after yet another heist. He was thinking about how to achieve his future ambitions. If he wanted to make his mark, he needed something bold—something that would cement his place in history as the world's greatest villain.

But what?

For weeks, he had struggled with this question. At first, he thought he needed a motive, a philosophy, a grander purpose like the Hero Killer: Stain. But now, he was beginning to realize that wasn't necessary.

It was Vector's heist that had truly changed his perspective.

Vector had stolen a pyramid.

Not for money. Not for power. Not even to prove a point.

He had done it... just because.

That revelation had burrowed into Izuku's mind like an obsession. It was brilliant in its absurdity. Vector hadn't cared about society, about heroes, or about what others thought of him. He had just done what he wanted, because he could.

That's what Izuku needed to do.

He smirked to himself. "So, if Vector can steal a pyramid..." He trailed off, his mind racing.

What could he steal?

His first instinct was to think globally. The Eiffel Tower? The Leaning Tower of Pisa? Perhaps even the Queen's tiara?

All of them were enticing options.

But there was a problem—he no longer had an airship.

Thanks to All Might, his old one had been utterly obliterated during their battle. And while he had no doubt that the Bank of Evil would fund him another if he asked, it wasn't an immediate solution.

No air transport meant he had to set his sights on something monumental—but within Japan.

Something that would leave the entire nation stunned.

Izuku's smirk widened as an idea sparked in his mind.

Something so grand yet so ridiculous that it would go down in history as one of the greatest heists ever pulled off.

The minions—who had been watching him think—noticed the mischievous glint in his eye and immediately perked up.

"Big Boss?" one of them piped up.

"Deku?" Another one followed up.

Izuku turned to them, his grin widening.

"Boys...I think it's time we stole something big."

A few days had passed since the U.A. entrance exam, and Principal Nezu now found himself seated across from Masaru and Mitsuki Bakugou in his office. The couple sat side by side, Masaru appearing calm but serious, while Mitsuki looked...well, slightly on edge.

Nezu, ever the polite host, offered them tea, which Masaru gratefully accepted. Mitsuki, however, waved it off, too preoccupied with the reason for their visit.

"Now then," Nezu began, sipping his own tea with a small smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?"

Masaru was the first to speak. "This is about our son, Katsuki, and his acceptance into U.A."

Nezu's ears twitched as he tilted his head. "Ah, yes. He performed remarkably well during the entrance exam. One of the top scorers, in fact."

Mitsuki scoffed. "Yeah, well, talent doesn't mean jack when the person behind it has issues."

Nezu's eyes gleamed with curiosity. "Issues?"

Masaru took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. "We're here because we believe there's something U.A. needs to know about Katsuki before he officially begins his time at your school. Specifically...about his past behavior."

Mitsuki crossed her arms. "Katsuki was a bully. A damn nasty one, too."

That certainly caught Nezu's attention. He set down his teacup and clasped his paws together. "Interesting...go on."

Masaru adjusted his glasses, his voice firm but remorseful. "For years, Katsuki tormented one of his classmates—a quirkless boy named Izuku Midoriya. He belittled him, humiliated him, and even physically harmed him. And we...we didn't do enough to stop it."

Nezu didn't react immediately, but he did take mental note of this important detail. The Bakugous were heavily involved with Deku? Now, there was no way he was about to let someone who is related to the case of the villain, Izuku 'Deku' Midoriya, slide. His small black eyes studied the two parents carefully.

Masaru continued. "Katsuki is changing, we can see that. Ever since Midoriya became...well, you know, Deku, Katsuki's been—"

"A wreck," Mitsuki finished bluntly. "He's been guilt-ridden, quiet, and—most concerningly—alone. He's always been a loud, arrogant brat, but at least he used to have people around him. Now, he barely lets anyone get close. We can tell he's struggling."

Masaru sighed. "But also we want him to be held accountable for what he's done. We don't want him just brushing it all under the rug and pretending it never happened."

Mitsuki leaned forward. "So if U.A. is gonna take him in, we want you to know exactly what kind of kid you're accepting. And we want to know what you plan to do about it."

A heavy silence filled the office as Nezu absorbed their words.

The principal tapped a paw against his chin, deep in thought.

"This is...a most unexpected revelation," he admitted, his tone light but thoughtful. "Katsuki Bakugou's record has no mentions of disciplinary action. No reports of misconduct."

"Because nobody ever reported him," Masaru said, guilt lacing his voice. "His teachers overlooked it. Other students stayed quiet. And Izuku..." He trailed off, his face grim. "Izuku just took it."

Nezu exhaled softly, contemplating their words. "Hmmm...this certainly changes things."

Mitsuki frowned. "So? What's gonna happen? Are you still letting him in?"

Nezu's smile remained, though his expression took on a more serious edge. "I see. This certainly adds a new perspective to our expectations of young Bakugou."

Masaru and Mitsuki waited, tense, as Nezu folded his paws in thought.

"I still intend to accept him," he finally said. "However, given the severity of his past actions and the weight they carry, I cannot allow him to enter U.A. without supervision. There will be...conditions."

Masaru straightened. "What kind of conditions?"

Nezu took a sip of his tea before answering. "Your son will be required to attend mandatory therapy sessions with our school counselor and emotional support specialist, Hound Dog. This is not a request—it is a necessity."

Mitsuki blinked, taken aback. "Therapy? You're making him go to therapy?"

"Indeed," Nezu confirmed. "And before you assume this is merely a punishment, let me clarify: this is as much for his benefit as it is for everyone around him."

Masaru listened intently as Nezu continued.

"It is undeniable that Katsuki's past behavior played a role in the creation of the most dangerous rising villain in recent history. That is not an easy burden to bear. I believe that, deep down, he understands this and is already struggling with the weight of his actions. Ignoring such a thing would be irresponsible—not just for his well-being, but for the safety of his classmates as well."

Mitsuki exhaled, rubbing her temples. "Damn brat really screwed himself over, huh?"

Masaru, though quiet, nodded in agreement. "I see your reasoning."

Nezu nodded. "This rehabilitation program will ensure that Katsuki addresses any unresolved issues—his aggression, his guilt, his outlook on heroism—and that he actively works toward being a better person. At the same time, it allows us to closely monitor his progress as well as to keep him under strict supervision if he, for whatever reason, decided to go back on some bad habits."

Masaru frowned. "So...he won't have a choice?"

"No," Nezu stated plainly. "If he wants to remain at U.A., he must oblige by these terms."

The room was silent for a moment before Mitsuki let out a dry chuckle. "Hah! Serves him right."

Masaru shot her a look, but Nezu simply smiled.

"Think of this as an opportunity," the principal added. "A chance for him to truly grow into the hero he aspires to be."

Masaru and Mitsuki exchanged glances before nodding.

"...Alright," Masaru said. "We'll tell him."

Nezu's smile remained as he finished the last sip of his tea. "Excellent."

Katsuki stood outside the ramen shop, staring at the glowing sign with a scowl. Why the hell did he even come here?

Oh yeah. Because Shitty Hair wouldn't stop blowing up his phone until he agreed to meet up.

[Kirishima: "Bro, c'mon! First day as official U.A. students, we gotta celebrate! Ramen on me!"]
[Kirishima: "Don't leave me hangin', man!"]
[Kirishima: "BAKUGOUUUUUU—"]

Katsuki had practically felt his phone vibrating off the table. Eventually, begrudgingly, he relented.

Now here he was. Regretting everything.

With a sigh, he pushed open the door.

"Yo! Bakugou!" Kirishima beamed, waving him over to a booth. "Took ya long enough!"

Katsuki grunted, dropping into the seat across from him. "Shut up."

The two ate in relative peace, though Kirishima kept up his usual friendly chatter. At first, Katsuki barely responded, but something about the guy was...tolerable. Annoying? Sure. But tolerable.

Kirishima, as usual, refused to be deterred.

"So, U.A., huh?" he grinned. "Think we're gonna be in the same class?"

Katsuki just shrugged. "Dunno. Don't care."

Kirishima chuckled. "Man, you really don't know how to do small talk, huh?"

Katsuki shot him a glare. "Do I look like someone who gives a crap about 'small talk'?"

"Not really," Kirishima admitted. "But hey, I like a challenge."

Katsuki clicked his tongue. Why was this guy so damn persistent?

But despite himself, he didn't hate it.

Somewhere in his base, Izuku leaned back in his chair, staring at the live audio feed from Katsuki's phone.

He had expected the usual: arrogance, superiority, or just plain self-absorption.

Instead...

Katsuki was different.

Izuku listened, unmoving, as the conversation played out. His tormentor—the same person who made his life hell—was now...acting human? Genuinely remorseful? Tolerating others?

He didn't want to believe it at first, but now he couldn't ignore it. It was almost comical.

Was this really the same person who used to beat him down?

Izuku felt something twist in his chest.

A year ago, he would have killed for Katsuki to change like this.

But now?

Now it just pissed him off.

"So I had to become a villain for you to finally change?" Izuku muttered to himself, his grip on the armrest tightening. "Really, Katsuki?"

A bitter chuckle escaped his lips.

"Too little, too late."

Still, the encounter lingered in his mind, whether he liked it or not.

For the first time since his descent into villainy, he questioned if the path he chose was truly irreversible.

But no. He was in too deep. There was no turning back now.

Besides, he liked being a villain.

He enjoyed the chaos, the freedom, the thrill of making heroes look like absolute clowns.

And most of all? He had his minions.

At least they never betrayed him.

Izuku exhaled, pushing aside thoughts of Katsuki and heroes.

He had bigger things to focus on.

If he wanted to leave a permanent mark on history, then he had to step up his game.

Which meant...

Something big.

No. Something monumental.

He pulled up a list of Japan's most iconic landmarks.

The Tokyo Tower?
The Great Buddha of Kamakura?
The entire freaking SkyTree?!

Oh, the possibilities.

He grinned. Time to start planning~!

The Todoroki household was dead silent.

Well, it had been.

Until he spoke.

"Man, Dad, you gotta admit," Natsuo snickered, barely holding back laughter as he scrolled through his phone. "That whole 'dumpster incident' was legendary."

Across the dining table, Endeavor's eye twitched. His jaw clenched as he stabbed his chopsticks into his food, nearly snapping them in half.

He didn't respond.

But oh, he heard him.

Loud and clear.

Deku.

That damn quirkless menace.

Endeavor had spent his entire career climbing to the top—honing his strength, perfecting his technique, and ensuring that no one, no matter how powerful, could ever challenge him. He was the No. 2 Pro Hero of Japan.

And yet.

And yet.

He was losing.

To a child.

A quirkless child.

A teenager who had no supernatural abilities, no raw power, no gifted strength—nothing but his brain, his tech, and those insufferable little yellow demons.

And somehow—somehow—Deku had humiliated him at every single encounter.

How?

HOW?!

This was absurd.

This should not be happening.

It was a joke. A sick, twisted joke.

He was Endeavor. He had faced villains, monsters, war criminals, and yet his greatest source of frustration was a quirkless, cackling brat with an army of Tic-Tacs.

It was infuriating.

But was it getting to him?

Absolutely not.

No.

Of course not.

This was simply an obstacle. A frustrating, idiotic, completely insane obstacle—but an obstacle nonetheless.

And yet, no matter how much firepower he threw at him, Deku always got away.

Always.

And he did it with a smile.

Endeavor grit his teeth at the memory.

That damn smile.

Mocking. Taunting. Infuriating.

Deku enjoyed making a fool of him. And what's worse? So did the media.

Every encounter was turned into a joke.

The headlines were unbearable.

• "Quirkless Villain Deku Escapes Endeavor...Again."
• "Japan's No. 2 Hero Continues His Losing Streak Against the Infamous Minions!"
• "Endeavor vs. Deku: Is It Even a Rivalry If One Side Keeps Losing?"

That last one made his blood boil.

A rivalry?

No.

This wasn't a rivalry.

It wasn't even a fight.

This was... this was...

A mockery.

Endeavor refused to acknowledge Deku as his equal.

And yet, the world was treating him as such.

His reputation—his legacy—was now being overshadowed by a damn prankster with no quirk and a bunch of idiot minions.

He felt his flames flare up in his palms, heating the entire room.

"Hey, Dad? You good?"

Endeavor snapped his gaze toward Natsuo, who looked far too amused for his own good. Natsuo himself didn't care. He was having the time of his life.

"I said, 'Are you good?'"

"I'm fine," Endeavor muttered through clenched teeth.

"Oh yeah?" Natsuo smirked, twirling his chopsticks. "Because, I mean... you did just get bodied by a bunch of minions."

The flames in his palms flared hotter.

"That's not what happened."

"Daaaad," Natsuo grinned. That may be the first and only time he'll call him 'Dad'. "There's literally footage."

Endeavor knew.

Oh, he knew.

Because everyone knew.

The security cameras at the bank had caught the entire thing.

And now, millions of people had seen Japan's No. 2 Hero get thrown into a dumpster like an actual sack of garbage by a bunch of yellow idiots.

It was everywhere.

The videos, the memes, the clips—

• "Endeavor vs. Minions: The Real Boss Fight."
• "Endeavor's Redemption Arc Starts Now!"
• "Even the No. 2 Hero Can't Escape the Minionverse!"

Natsuo wasn't done. He was grateful that Fuyumi was off taking a late night shift today so that she couldn't interrupt this moment.

"Y'know," he mused, scrolling through his phone, "this one's my favorite—"

He turned the screen around.

It was a GIF of one of the minions slipping on a banana peel, crashing into a group of others—which somehow resulted in Endeavor getting flung into the dumpster.

By accident.

Endeavor twitched.

"Truly, an inspiring performance," Natsuo said dramatically. "I mean, what are the odds?"

"Grck-!" Across the table, Shoto actually snorted.

It was quiet.

Soft.

But Endeavor heard it.

And so did Natsuo.

Silence.

All three of them just sat there.

Then—

Natsuo BURST into laughter.

"OH MY GOD, EVEN SHOTO IS LAUGHING—"

"I sneezed," Shoto deadpanned.

He did not sneeze.

Endeavor's flames flared.

Dinner was officially ruined.

Deep within the halls of U.A. High School, Principal Nezu sat in his office, paws steepled together, staring intently at his monitor.

The screen was filled with information, but none of it made sense.

At least, not to him.

And that was precisely the problem.

Nezu prided himself on knowing everything that went on in U.A. It was his school, his domain.

But this?

This was an anomaly.

He had just finished reviewing all the accepted students for this year's hero course—checking their backgrounds, ensuring everything was in order—when something peculiar caught his attention.

Felonious Gru was nowhere to be found.

No record of enrollment.
No applications to any other hero school.
No transfers.
No mentions in any academic database.

It was as if, the moment he stepped out of U.A.'s gates, he ceased to exist.

And that was what made Nezu's suspicion evolve into something more.

This wasn't just a strange student. This was someone who didn't want to be found. And yet—He had single-handedly dominated U.A.'s entrance exam.

In all of U.A.'s history, there had never been a quirkless student who even came close to the top rankings.

Much less...shattered every record U.A. had.

And then, as if that wasn't strange enough...

He declined the offer to enroll.

Why?

That was the question that had plagued Nezu's mind since the boy walked out of U.A.

Why go through all that effort?
Why train so hard?
Why outperform every other examinee?

Only to walk away?

Surely, it wasn't exactly as he said as to 'prove a point'. Surely, nobody could be that petty?

It didn't add up.

And Principal Nezu hated when things didn't add up.

Nezu leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin.

His gaze was locked onto the monitor in front of him, replaying a particular moment from the entrance exam over and over again.

The exact moment U.A.'s database had glitched.

The faculty had brushed it off. After all, their security system had been damaged in an earlier villain attack—an event that left their digital infrastructure vulnerable. It was easy to assume this was just another residual error.

But Nezu?

Nezu wasn't so easily fooled.

The glitch had been too precise. Too perfectly timed.

At first, Gru's file had been completely empty. A blank slate.

And then—suddenly, it wasn't.

As if someone had realized they forgot to fabricate a profile and hastily filled in the blanks.

Nezu leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

It was subtle. Very subtle.

But if there was one thing Nezu had learned over the years, it was that the smallest details often revealed the biggest secrets. This wasn't just some random system error.

It was deliberate.

Someone had manipulated U.A.'s records.

And the only logical reason for that...was if this student didn't want anyone knowing who he really was.

Nezu's black eyes gleamed as a sharp-toothed grin spread across his face.

'How fascinating.'

Nezu pulled up Gru's 'official' profile.

At first glance, everything looked perfectly ordinary.

Felonious Gru

Quirk: None

Background: Average student, intelligent, but unspectacular socially.

Excels in technology and academics.

There was nothing inherently suspicious.

But therein lay the problem.

It was too normal.

Nezu had read thousands of student files in his time, and even the most mundane students had some kind of unique identifier. A particular habit, a distinctive trait, an anecdote from a teacher...

But Gru's file? It was clinical. Lacking the small, human details that made a profile feel authentic.

It felt manufactured.

Fabricated.

Nezu's grin widened.

He wasn't just dealing with a skilled student.

He was dealing with someone who had gone out of their way to remain undetected.

And that, in itself, was very telling.

He flipped through another file, this time a police file.

Deku.

That damn quirkless villain who had been making a mockery of Japan's hero society for months.

A genius in technology.
A master at evading capture.
A strategist who outsmarted heroes at every turn.

Nezu's mind began connecting the dots.

A brilliant, quirkless individual suddenly appearing, performing at a superhuman level, and then vanishing?

It was too coincidental.

Could Deku and Gru be the same person?

Nezu wasn't certain.

Not yet.

But he knew one thing:

Whoever Felonious Gru truly was—he was someone to keep an eye on.

Nezu had never been one to ignore a mystery. But Nezu didn't have enough evidence to make an accusation just yet.

But he would be watching.

Observing.

Tracking every oddity surrounding this Felonious Gru.

And when the time came...?

He would have his answers.

Nezu chuckled, taking a sip of his tea.

"Let's see what you do next, Mr. Gru."

Izuku Midoriya, better known as Deku, stood in the heart of his underground lair, staring at a massive holographic projection of Tokyo Tower. The crimson-and-white structure loomed in front of him, an untouchable symbol of Japan's modern landscape. The dimly lit underground hideout hummed with energy as his minions bustled around, preparing for what was—without a doubt—his boldest, most ridiculous heist yet.

His big debut.

The heist that would cement Deku's name in history.

He grinned. Tokyo Tower was going to be his.

But first—he needed to make sure the world was watching.

Because there was something hilarious about the idea of an entire city waking up one morning, looking outside, and realizing, Oh crap, our tower is gone.

Not destroyed. Stolen.

Like it had been plucked straight out of existence.

That was the kind of ridiculous, audacious villainy Izuku wanted to be known for.

Izuku turned to his squad of minions, who stood in semi-attention (because at least three of them were balancing wrenches on their heads). He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Not now. This was serious.

Now, Izuku was ambitious, but even he had to acknowledge the sheer insanity of this plan.

Stealing Tokyo Tower wasn't like stealing a bank vault.

It was gigantic. Anchored deep into the ground. A crucial part of the city's skyline.

How do you steal something that weighs thousands of tons, stands over 1,000 feet tall, and is anchored into the ground by steel beams?

Izuku held his chin in contemplation and began muttering up a storm as he wrote down on his villain notebook, attempting to cook up some plans."HowwouldIstealit?WherewouldIevenputit?Howstrongisthetower?WillIevenhaveenoughtime?Muttermuttermuttermutter~..."

He was interrupted when a minion suddenly approached him and proudly held up a comically small shovel.

Izuku stared at it. Then at the minion. Then back at the shovel.

"...You're lucky you're adorable," he said, snatching the tool and tossing it over his shoulder.

He looked at the rest of his minions and this was the part where things usually went wrong.

They were loyal. They were competent. But they were also chaotic little gremlins who found new ways to stress him out daily.

Izuku took a deep breath as he finally came up with a suitable plan. Alright, let's do this.

He flicked his wrist, and the hologram shifted, zooming in on the base of the tower.

"Listen up, you little chaos gremlins," Izuku began, his voice firm and commanding. "This is going to be our biggest job yet. And we have to be absolutely perfect. No distractions. No mistakes. We're locking in. This is a precision operation."

A minion immediately fell off his chair. "Oof!"

Izuku closed his eyes and exhaled. "I swear to—okay, let's start from the top." He was really starting to regret giving Mel that week off.

Izuku zoomed out from Tokyo Tower, pulling up a second holographic model—this one of Mustafu's biggest news station.

"Before we steal Tokyo Tower, we need an audience."

The minions nodded in unison. One scribbled something on a notepad.

"We're going to take over the news station and broadcast my message live to the entire country," Izuku explained. "That way, everyone—including the heroes—will be watching when we make our move."

A minion raised his hand. "pudum ka kaylay a cep??"

"No, I'm not giving you another raise, Dave."

The minion huffed, crossing his arms.

"Step one is breaking into the studio and taking control of their broadcasting system," Izuku continued, flicking his wrist again. The news station's floor plan appeared. "Security is light, because they don't expect someone to attack a news station. We'll be in and out before anyone realizes what's happening."

Izuku swiped the air, and the holographic Tokyo Tower reappeared, this time with strategic markers at its foundation.

"This is where it gets tricky," he said. "We can't just rip Tokyo Tower out of the ground. That would be messy."

A minion nodded. "Boom?"

"Yes. Boom."

The minions cheered.

"We're going to plant controlled explosives at every structural anchor at the base of the tower," Izuku said. "Precisely placed, perfectly timed detonations."

He circled each anchor point with a red marker.

"When the explosives go off, they will separate the tower from its foundation in one clean motion."

He turned to face his minions. "Meaning?"

A minion raised his hand. "Uh...big boom?"

"No—small boom. Precise boom." Izuku stressed. "We want to release the tower, not destroy it."

With another swipe, several airships appeared on the display.

"Once the tower is free, we carry it out of the city."

The minions oohed in unison.

"We don't have the airships yet, but I have a plan for that. The Bank of Evil still owes me a favor. We'll 'borrow' the fleet we need."

A minion scribbled 'big planes' on his notepad.

"We'll need at least a dozen high-powered aircraft to distribute the weight evenly," Izuku continued. "If we do this right, Tokyo will wake up and the tower will be gone."

A minion dramatically gasped. Another one fainted from excitement.

Izuku grinned. "Now...who's ready to make history?!"

"YEAAAAH!!!"
"WOOOO!!!"
"DEKU!DEKU!DEKU!"

The minions erupted into cheers.

This was it. His grandest plan yet.

And nothing was going to stop him.

In a sleek, modern conference room within the Endeavor Agency, a group of stressed-out PR representatives sat in nervous silence. The tension in the room was suffocating.

At the head of the table, arms crossed and scowl deeper than the Mariana Trench, sat Enji Todoroki, Japan's No. 2 Pro Hero.

On the massive screen behind them? Security footage of his latest...humiliation.

The footage replayed in painful slow motion.

Endeavor, standing firm, flames roaring.

Deku's tiny yellow minions tripping over each other...

...accidentally triggering a series of domino-effect disasters that resulted in him falling into a dumpster.

A dumpster that was on fire.

The flaming dumpster then rolled down a hill.

It hit a parked car.

The airbags deployed.

The footage paused.

Silence.

Endeavor sat in his chair, seething.

One PR agent cleared their throat. "S-So...uh, sir, maybe we could, uh, spin this as—"

"Shut up."

The PR team flinched.

"I am the Number Two Pro Hero," Endeavor growled. "This should not be happening."

No one dared to breathe.

"This...thing," he spat. "This quirkless brat—he's making a joke out of me."

The PR agents exchanged nervous glances.

"Sir, w-we understand your frustration, but we need to address the public perception—"

"The public perception?" Endeavor slammed his fists on the table, flames flickering from his skin. "The public thinks I'm being made a fool of."

No one disagreed. No one even spoke.

Endeavor's flames flared.

The moon hung high over Mustafu as Izuku and his squad of minions lurked outside the towering news station. Dressed in his trademark black, Izuku crouched low, his eyes glinting mischievously. This wasn't just any heist—this was a performance.

And so, naturally, he had to act the part.

He pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Alright, boys," he whispered. "Operation: Hijack the Airwaves is a go."

The minions nodded in unison, some adjusting their ridiculous makeshift 'spy gear'—which included night-vision goggles that were actually just sunglasses with green-tinted lenses.

Then, with an exaggerated tiptoe, Izuku slinked forward. The minions copied him immediately, their knees bending at comically extreme angles as they mimicked his movements perfectly.

One tripped.

Izuku whirled around, glaring. The minion froze in place like a badly programmed NPC, before slowly tipping over and faceplanting into the pavement.

Izuku sighed. "This is already going great."

Still, they pushed on, navigating the outer perimeter in a ridiculously exaggerated sneaky walk, complete with occasional giggling from Izuku himself.

"Heheheheh..."

Oh, he was really playing the part of the villain now. A cackling, mustache-twirling, larger-than-life supervillain.

He had fully embraced the cartoon villain aesthetic.

But despite their... unique approach to stealth, the heist was going perfectly.

Izuku had efficiently (and by efficiently, he meant with excessive dramatic flair) taken down every security guard.

A minion dragged an unconscious guard behind a desk. Another minion helped stack them neatly in a corner, like a game of villainous Jenga.

Finally, they reached the control room.

Izuku cracked his knuckles and grinned. "Alright, time to take control of the airwaves!"

He slid into the main chair, his fingers hovering over the keyboard. With a few masterful strokes, he bypassed the security systems, setting up the station to broadcast his upcoming grand speech across all major networks.

Everything was going perfectly.

Until he realized one of his minions was missing.

Izuku blinked. Then squinted. Then turned his head slowly to look over the room.

"...Where's Dave?" he asked, voice dangerously calm.

The minions shrugged, looking equally confused.

Izuku pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. "Of course. Of course."

He cupped his hands around his mouth and whisper-yelled, "DAVE?!"

Silence.

Izuku scowled. "Dave, I swear, if you got yourself kidnapped to get back at me for not giving you a raise, I will—"

A chuckle echoed from above.

Izuku froze.

The minions froze.

The voice was not Dave's.

Then, from the rafters, an unfamiliar voice—smooth, theatrical, and laced with amusement—spoke.

"Looking for someone?"

Izuku's instincts kicked in as he quickly whipped out his freeze ray, aiming toward the ceiling. His sharp green eyes locked onto a figure perched on a steel beam above.

A man in a top hat and an elegant, old-fashioned waistcoat, and wearing a blank, white mask staring down at him with a knowing smirk.

"I must say," the man continued, twirling a marble between his fingers, "you're just as impressive as I'd hoped."

Izuku narrowed his eyes, finger tightening on the trigger. "Who the hell are you? And where is my minion?"

The man tilted his hat slightly, eyes gleaming behind his white mask.

"Ah, my sincerest apologies," he said, placing a hand on his chest and bowing politely. "Where are my manners?"

With a dramatic flourish, he straightened. "I am but a humble entertainer drawn to your work, Deku. You may call me...Mr. Compress!"

Izuku didn't hesitate. He fired his freeze ray immediately. Mr. Compress flipped effortlessly out of the way, landing gracefully atop a desk. "Oh my, impatient, aren't we?"

"You didn't answer my question." Izuku snarled, stepping forward. "Where. Is. My. Minion?"

Mr. Compress chuckled, tossing the marble up and catching it with practiced ease.

Izuku's eyes followed the small object.

"You'll get him back," Compress said, amused. "I simply wanted to see for myself if you were truly as remarkable as they say."

Izuku lunged.

Compress sidestepped.

Izuku fired again—a burst of ice nearly caught his coat, but he flipped backward, dodging with obnoxious flair.

The minion squad merely watched like an audience at a tennis match.

Izuku growled in frustration. "Quit playing games, Top Hat!"

"But where's the fun in that?" Compress taunted, spinning his cane.

Izuku smirked. "Fine. Playtime's over."

He pressed a button on his wrist watch, aimed his fist forward and actually launched a small homing missile at the thief.

Mr. Compress barely had a second to react as the homing missile shot toward him.

"Well, that's new," he mused before vaulting off the rafter, twisting in midair as the missile swerved to follow him.

Izuku grinned. Perfect.

The moment Compress landed, the missile curved hard toward him—but instead of trying to outrun it, he flicked his wrist, tossing another marble into the air.

With a flash, the marble expanded into a life-sized pinata of himself—a decoy, just as flashy and obnoxious as the real one. The missile slammed into the fake Compress, detonating in a puff of smoke and confetti.

Izuku stared.

"...Confetti?"

"Presentation is everything!" Mr. Compress bowed dramatically, as if performing a magic trick.

"Ooooooh!" The minions clapped.

Izuku glared at them. "Stop encouraging him!"

Unfortunately for Mr. Compress, he had made one miscalculation. While he had been focused on dodging the missile, Izuku had already closed the distance.

Compress barely had time to register the movement before Izuku lunged, his grappling hook firing from his gauntlet. The wire wrapped around Compress's arm, stopping him mid-escape.

"Gotcha," Izuku smirked, tugging hard.

Caught off balance, Mr. Compress stumbled—just enough for something small to slip from his glove.

The tiny shimmering marble. The one that the minion was trapped in.

Izuku's sharp eyes immediately locked onto it.

Compress saw it, too.

"Oh," the magician muttered.

Izuku dived.

Compress dived.

The minions also dived.

A chaotic scramble ensued as several bodies hit the ground at once, arms flailing wildly for the tiny marble rolling across the floor.

For a moment, it seemed like Compress might reach it first.

But just as his fingertips brushed the surface—

CLAP!

Izuku slammed his hands together, sandwiching the marble between his palms before Compress could snatch it away.

With the marble in his hands, he and his minions quickly pulled away and Izuku aimed his freeze ray at the marble thief once again.

There a short, tense silence in this stand off until Compress suddenly laughed. "Well, well. Looks like the stories about you were true after all. Impressive."

Izuku didn't care. He revved up his freeze ray once again. "What did you do to him?! Let him go!" He demanded.

And with a chuckle, Mr. Compress obliged. "Very well." He said as he snapped his finger. The marble in Izuku's hand began to expand and In a puff of smoke, Dave reappeared—slightly dizzy, but unharmed.

Izuku immediately scooped the minion up and checked him over. "Dave, you okay? Did he touch you? Did he try to sell you anything?"

Dave blinked, then hugged Izuku's face. "Deku!"

"Yeah, yeah, you're fine." Izuku pried him off and with that, tension between him and the marble thief quickly died down as he put away his freeze ray, sensing that Compress meant no real harm. Izuku turned back to him, "Alright, magician-boy. What do you want?"

Mr. Compress tipped his hat. "Oh, nothing much. When I saw you sneaking into this place, I simply had to meet you."

Izuku frowned. "Why?"

"Because," Compress grinned beneath his mask, "I'm a big fan."

Izuku blinked.

"...What."

"Oh, absolutely," Compress continued, adjusting his gloves. "You are one of the most fascinating villains I've seen in years. Quirkless, yet completely outmaneuvering pro heroes—humiliating Endeavor, no less!" He let out a theatrical laugh. "How could I not want to meet you?"

Izuku just kept staring.

I...have fans?

He had no idea people actually liked him. He figured everyone hated him for being a villain. Sure, he knew the media was always talking about him, but he hadn't bothered to check public opinion.

"Wait," Izuku finally said. "People actually like me?"

"Oh, my dear boy," Mr. Compress chuckled, "you have no idea."

"...Why?" Izuku was genuinely curious on why and how he has actual fans.

Compress tilted his head. “Because, my dear Deku, people love a good trick, a good spectacle! And you? You’re shaping up to be the greatest illusionist of all.”

Izuku’s raised an unamused. “I’m not an illusionist.”

“Oh, but you are,” Compress insisted, spreading his arms theatrically. “You’ve pulled off the most daring trick of all—you’ve made an entire society believe you’re just some quirkless nobody when in reality, you’re the one making them dance to your tune.”

Izuku blinked. …Huh.

That was actually a pretty damn good way of putting it.

But he wasn’t about to say that out loud.

Instead, he let out a mock gasp, placing a hand on his chest. “Oh no, you got me! Whatever will I do now that you’ve unraveled my grand illusion?” he deadpanned.

Compress laughed. “Sarcastic and talented. You’re growing on me already.”

Izuku frowned, hiding his amusement. Alright, I’ll admit. The guy’s got a flair for theatrics.

But that didn’t mean he trusted him. Not yet, at least.

By now, the tension between them was nonexistent. Mr. Compress adjusted his gloves, watching Izuku with interest. “I must say, this is quite the departure from your usual antics. What takes you to a place like this?”

Izuku, still skeptical of the magician’s motives, narrowed his eyes. “Why would I tell you?”

Compress chuckled. “Fair point. But consider this—your work has been most entertaining to watch. Banks, hero agencies, even outplaying Japan’s No. 2 hero? Truly impressive feats. As an admirer, I simply wanted a sneak peek at whatever grand scheme you’re cooking up next.”

Izuku remained silent, studying him carefully. Was he serious? Was he just messing with him?

But there was something oddly sincere in Compress’s tone—he wasn’t mocking him, nor was he trying to pry for intel like some undercover hero. He was just… genuinely curious.

After a moment of contemplation, Izuku smirked. “Information doesn’t come free, Top Hat. You tell me something first, and then I’ll tell you why I’m here.”

Compress tilted his head. “Oh? And what exactly do you want to know?”

Izuku’s grin widened slightly. “Your quirk. Tell me how it works.”

Mr. Compress let out an amused hum. “An exchange of secrets, is it? Now that’s my kind of trade.” He flicked his wrist dramatically, producing a small, shimmering marble between his fingers.

“My quirk is Compress—an ability that allows me to take anything, or anyone, and store them neatly inside these marbles.” He twirled the sphere with his fingertips, before making it vanish in a sleight-of-hand trick. “Simple, yet effective. Perfect for theft, escape…or a bit of showmanship.”

Izuku nodded slowly, already analyzing the implications of such a quirk. Instant containment? Minimal effort? No evidence left behind? He could see the potential immediately.

But then the idea hit him.

Izuku's eyes flickered toward the small marble that Mr. Compress was balancing between his fingers, his mind racing. Wait a minute…

If Mr. Compress had a quirk that allowed him to shrink anything into a marble, then he wouldn’t have to go through nearly as much trouble as he originally planned. No need to carefully plant explosives around Tokyo Tower’s base, no need to steal an entire fleet of airships just to carry the damn thing—Compress had the perfect quirk to steal something as massive as Tokyo Tower with minimal effort.

Izuku nearly smacked himself for not realizing it sooner. This was it. This was the answer!

Now, the question was whether Mr. Compress could be used as an asset…or if he would become an actual ally.

“…So let me get this straight,” Izuku said at last. “You can shrink anything down, no matter how big?”

“Correct,” Compress confirmed, spinning a marble between his fingers. “People, objects, even entire buildings—if I can touch it, I can compress it.”

Izuku exhaled sharply, trying not to seem too eager. He crossed his arms, feigning casual indifference. “Huh. That’s…interesting.”

Mr. Compress tilted his head. “Oh? I sense that the young mastermind has thought of something truly spectacular just now.”

"Hm. Indeed, I am." Izuku crossed his arms. “You’re clearly a guy who appreciates the absurd and the theatrical. So how about this—I’m planning something big. Something that’ll shake hero society to its core.” He took a step forward, lowering his voice. “I’m going to steal Tokyo Tower.”

For the first time in the entire conversation, Mr. Compress was rendered speechless.

A long silence followed.

Then, he suddenly began clapping.

Not slow and sarcastic—but genuine applause, as if he had just watched an incredible performance.

“Oh! Oh, that’s brilliant! That’s absolutely insane!” He clapped louder, sounding like a delighted audience member at a magic show. “Now that is a work of art! Audacious! Ridiculous! A perfect crime! Stealing Tokyo Tower? A national landmark? You’re not just thinking big—you’re thinking legendary!”

Izuku sweat-dropped. Is he seriously geeking out over this right now…?

Mr. Compress wiped an imaginary tear from his mask. “And here I thought you couldn’t impress me any further! You truly are Japan’s greatest rising star in villainy!”

“…Right.” Izuku cleared his throat, feeling just a bit thrown off. “So…if you’re such a fan, how about lending a hand?-”

Mr. Compress didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.”

"Wow. That was fast."

“You expected anything less?” Compress chuckled. “How could I not assist when you have just presented me with the heist of a lifetime. A crime so ludicrous that it transcends mere villainy and becomes art?” He let out a delighted chuckle. “My dear Deku, consider me your greatest supporter.”

“…You’re not some kind of undercover hero spy, are you?”

Compress scoffed dramatically, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense. “Me? Working with heroes? Please.” He spun his cane once more. “I am many things—an entertainer, a gentleman thief, an artist—but a lapdog for the so-called defenders of justice? Never.”

Izuku studied him for a moment, then smirked. Mr. Compress was being legit. “Alright then. If that's the case, then it's settled. Welcome aboard...Mr. Compress!”

“Oh, this is going to be fun.” Mr. Compress grinned behind his mask.

The city of Mustafu hummed quietly under the moonlit sky, its streets far less chaotic than during the day. But for one particular yellow, overall-clad troublemaker, the night was still young.

Mel, second-in-command of the infamous minions, had spent his well-earned day off causing delightful mayhem. He’d spray-painted murals on hero agency buildings (his personal masterpiece being a crude stick figure of Endeavor with “Bakamoto” scrawled underneath), rigged arcade games so he could win every prize, and cut in line at various cafés, much to the frustration of unsuspecting customers. (He did all this in disguise of course.)

But now? Now he was winding down, enjoying some quality relaxation.

Having broken into a closed electronics store, Mel had made himself comfortable, lounging atop a pile of stolen bean bags and a makeshift couch of TV boxes. A massive, ultra-HD flat screen stood before him, broadcasting a late-night talk show. He wanted to change channels.

The problem? The remote was all the way over by the TV.

"Ugh!" Mel groaned dramatically, rolling onto his stomach. He could just get up and grab it, but that was way too much effort. Besides, he was already in a much too comfortable position to get up. Instead, he opted for alternative methods.

First, he stretched his arm forward as far as he could. Nope.

Next, he grabbed a mop and tried extending it toward the remote. Too short.

Then, in a true display of minion genius, he balanced atop three stacked chairs, leaning dangerously forward with a broom handle—until the entire setup collapsed, sending him tumbling down with a loud CRASH!

Still, he was nothing if not determined.

Finally, after much unnecessary acrobatics, Mel managed to snag the remote with his foot, flicking it into his hands with a victorious grin.

“Ha! Gotcha!” he declared proudly in Minionese.

Then he heard the voice from behind.

“I’ve been looking for one of you little guys.”

Mel froze. His stubby fingers tightened around the remote as a shadow loomed behind him. Slowly, he turned his head, his single goggle-eye widening in alarm.

A tall figure stood there, his face obscured by darkness.

“Babababa!?” Mel sputtered in shock, jumping to his feet and waving the remote like a weapon.

“Relax,” the figure said smoothly, completely unfazed by the minion’s antics. “I’m not here to fight.”

Mel pointed at the intruder accusingly and demanded in Minionese, “Ben nama to!? amee deep to pen Mel!?”

The figure tilted his head, ignoring the question. Instead, he got straight to the point.

“Take me to your boss. I want to meet him.”

Izuku and his minions were returning back to base after successfully hacking and gaining fully control of the city's main news network station. He had also allowed Mr. Compress to tag along with him. They were now officially allies now. It seemed that Mr. Compress truly wasn't working for anyone until then, so Izuku had accepted him.

Besides, it's been a while since Izuku's had a genuine ally after Giran.

"For a performative villain such as yourself, I did not expect your base to be so...normal looking." Mr. Compress couldn't help but comment, looking at Deku's base located in a dead-end alleyway.

"I have multiple bases around the city. They're all different, and this is the one closest here." Izuku explained. He approached the entrance to his hideout, expecting the doors to be locked—only to find them already slightly ajar. "Wha-?"

His brows furrowed. That shouldn’t be possible.

The moment his instincts screamed at him, he kicked the door open, freeze ray at the ready. His minions, now on high alert, moved behind him, while Mr. Compress took a relaxed but defensive stance, watching for any threats.

He stepped forward cautiously. The usual lively chaos of his hideout was replaced by an eerie stillness. Most of the minions should already be asleep by no, meaning whoever had broken in did so with precision.

And that’s when he saw the intruder.

Izuku narrowed his eyes and raised his freeze ray at him. "Who the hell are you?!"

The lone figure stood in the center of his work space, casually inspecting a blueprint Izuku had left out on one of his desks. His stance was relaxed, unconcerned—as if he had been waiting for them.

He was dressed in heavy-duty armor, the dark plating covering his arms and torso giving him a brutalist, industrial look. His helmet—distinctly shaped like an excavator claw—tilted slightly toward Izuku. The glowing orange visor gave away no expression, but his posture was as casual as someone flipping through a magazine at a waiting room.

Izuku’s grip on his freeze ray tightened. He knew that helmet. It was eerily similar to one of U.A.’s staff members he saw during the entrance exam.

Mr. Compress subtly shifted into a defensive stance, his fingers twitching toward his coat pocket. The minions, for their part, tried to look threatening—one of them holding a ladle like a sword.

The intruder finally acknowledged them, setting the blueprint down with a deliberate slowness.

Then, he spoke.

"Nice setup you got here." He gestured lazily to the various blueprints, weapons, and machinery scattered across the room. "Didn’t expect the famous Deku to be so...hands-on."

Izuku’s grip on his weapon tightened. The hell is this guy playing at?

Then, he began to piece it together. The helmet. The gauntlets. The build.

The resemblance was unmistakable.

"Wait, you..." Izuku’s eyes narrowed in realization. "You look like—"

"The Excavation Hero, Power Loader?" The man finished for him, stepping forward casually. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

Then he tilted his head with a smirk.

"I'm his brother. Raito Maijima."

A beat of silence passed. Then—

"But you can call me...Excavator."

Chapter Text

Love. A concept once foreign to the heart of the notorious villain known as Deku. He had conquered banks, burned hero agencies to the ground, and humiliated the so-called "symbol of peace" with his absurd antics. But tonight...tonight, he would face his greatest enemy yet.

His own heart.

Izuku stood on the edge, staring out into the vast cityscape, his cape billowing dramatically in the wind. Beside him, Otto—his most devoted minion—clutched his tiny yellow hands to his chest, eyes glistening like twin stars.

"Boss..." Otto squeaked. "Me love you."

A pause. A long, heart-wrenching silence. The wind howled. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked. A single Minion played the Titanic theme on a harmonica.

Izuku exhaled, turning to face Otto, his expression unreadable. Then, finally... he spoke.

"I love you too, Otto."

Cue dramatic music explosion.

Montage: The greatest romance of all time.

Date #1: Otto and Izuku at a five-star restaurant, candlelight flickering. The Minion squad serves them in tiny waiter outfits. Mr. Compress, acting as the head waiter, dramatically lifts a silver platter to reveal... a banana soufflé. Otto swoons.

Date #2: Otto and Izuku riding a tandem bicycle through a field of sunflowers. Slow motion. Petals float around them. A Minion gets tangled in the bike chain and is launched into the sun.

Date #3: The two share an intimate moment on top of Tokyo Tower, looking down at the city Izuku swears to rule. Otto nestles close. Izuku, in a rare vulnerable moment, murmurs, "I've never felt this way before..."

The venue? The ruins of the U.A. training ground, now decorated with absurdly extravagant golden banners with "D+O 4EVA" spray-painted on them.

Giran is the best man. Mr. Compress officiates with a grand, sweeping bow. The Minions are the flower girls, haphazardly throwing bananas instead of petals. Shigaraki, sitting in the back row, grumbles, "This is the dumbest thing I've ever seen."

But then—

"You may now kiss the Minion."

A cheer erupts. Minions cry. Dabi wipes a single tear. Overhaul flips a table in disgust. The city quakes as this unholy union is sealed.

A dimly lit villain hideout. Shadows stretch across the walls. Izuku and Otto sit across from each other, tension thick in the air.

"You ate my pudding, Otto. My. Pudding. The banana pudding I had saved for today," Izuku seethed.

Otto blinked innocently. "...Banana?"

Izuku slammed his hands on the table as he toward above the minion who had fallen on the ground "THINK, OTTO! THINK!" He pointed at his own temple. 

Deku to his minion:

---

APLIL FOOLS, MUTHAFUCKAAAA!!!!

Bet y'all weren't expecting that, huh?!

Well, I guess you did since you could tell just from the title alone.

Why have I written this? I don't know.

I guess lil' ol' ME just felt a little...despicable, today~.

Anyways, enjoy this absolute, wtf, disaster of a chapter I made, you absolute buffoons. If I gotta suffer making this, y'all gotta suffer with me to!

See you in the next chapter!

Chapter Text

The soft hum of computers in the background was the only sound as Deku's freeze ray remained locked on the stranger. The minions stood defensively behind him, some peeking out from behind crates and half-built gadgets, holding wrenches like swords. Mr. Compress, relaxed but alert, tilted his hat back slightly, watching with curiosity.

Excavator sat on his chair unfazed.

"Your little guy let me in," he said casually, giving a small shrug. "Tiny fellow, wore goggles, interesting hairstyle. Think he said his name was...Mel?" 

"Mel?" Izuku muttered under his breath, surprised as he didn't expect Mel of all minions to do this. Still, he doubt that he could've done anything, but still. He'd have a very animated meeting with that minion later.

"But I'm not here to fight," Excavator continued, hands raised slightly to show he meant no harm. "I just came to talk. You've made waves, Deku. Huge ones. But if you want to be the world's greatest villain...you're not thinking big enough."

Izuku narrowed his eyes behind his goggles. "Big enough?"

"Big is fine," Excavator replied. "But iconic? That's where you're lacking. You've got brains, tech, a reputation. But no identity. Not really. You've got a freeze ray—good. That's your thing. But your rides? Your look? Random. Uncoordinated. You show up in a bike one day, a balloon the next, a go-kart the day after that. There's no cohesion."

One of the minions raised a hand as if to object, then slowly lowered it when Izuku shot him a glare.

Excavator finally stood up and stepped forward, his voice now carrying a sharp edge of excitement. "You need something that screams you. That when people hear 'Deku,' they immediately picture that machine tearing through the streets. Just like your freeze ray. Something that's yours."

Izuku didn't lower his weapon, but the gears in his brain were whirring.

He had a point.

Still—"Why help me?" he said sharply. "I don't know you. And you just broke into my base."

"Man, they were right when they said that you're a really distrustful person." Excavator laughed, a rough and amused sound. He continued. "Yeah, well. Let's just say I admire what you're doing. I used to be in the hero support industry. Built gadgets, vehicles, battle gear—same as my brother, Power Loader. But I got tired of building toys for people with flashy powers who didn't appreciate tech. Tech like ours." His voice dipped with intensity. "And now you come along. A quirkless kid taking on Pro Heroes with nothing but brilliance and scrap metal. You're proving that tech can rival quirks. That we can."

Izuku said nothing at first.

Then he finally lowered his weapon.

"...Fine. You've got five minutes," he muttered. "Impress me."

Excavator's lips curled into a smirk beneath his helmet. "Very well. I won't let you down."

But before he could say more, his attention shifted to the masked man standing nonchalantly beside Izuku, spinning his cane like a magician preparing for a trick. "Though, before we begin—who's this gentleman you brought back with you?" Excavator asked, one brow rising beneath his visor. "You don't usually work with other villains, considering how famously distrustful you are."

Izuku gave a casual shrug. "I guess I've decided to branch out a little."

Without missing a beat, Mr. Compress took a flamboyant bow, sweeping off his hat with theatrical flair. "The name, my good sir, is Mr. Compress—artist, gentleman, and now, ally to the great and chaotic rising star of villainy himself: Deku." He flourished his hand toward Izuku as if he were royalty.

Excavator blinked once, then looked back at Izuku. "...You sure this guy isn't performing at kids' parties?"

Izuku sighed, unamused. "He's with me. If he weren't, I'd already be captured by now."

Compress chuckled proudly, taking it as if it were a compliment.

"Really? Then he must be quite the powerful person." Excavator exclaimed, sounding genuinely surprised.

"Powerful and persistent," Izuku muttered, rubbing his temple. "Now, if you're done being nosy, I believe you had something to impress me with?"

Excavator nodded and strode toward one of the workbenches, rolling up his sleeves. "Right, let's get to the good stuff."

He knelt down, pulled open a rusted cabinet, and began laying out a spread of metal schematics, compact blueprints, and pre-assembled miniature prototypes. With smooth, practiced precision, he began tinkering with a tiny drill-arm attachment, welding it together with such ease that it almost looked choreographed.

Izuku found himself watching silently, mildly intrigued despite himself.

"This?" Excavator explained, holding up a compact fusion-powered rivet launcher. "One of my many engineering babies. Useful for precision sabotage or construction. Just a taste of what I'm capable of."

Compress whistled softly. "Color me impressed."

But Excavator wasn't done.

He reached into his bag and pulled out a few crumpled blueprint scrolls and laid them across the table.

"These, though..." He trailed off, eyes narrowing with curiosity. "These were already on the floor when I entered. One of your minions practically shoved them into my hands. Can't say I blame them—these are interesting designs. Unique."

Izuku looked down and instantly recognized the blueprints. Having been titled by his minions 'The Grumobile' and 'The Gru Airship'. Both heavily stylized, borderline ridiculous, yet undeniably and strangely efficient in their own way. The unmistakable influence of cartoonish genius in every curve and cannon nozzle.

"They've been bothering me about these for weeks," Izuku grumbled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Apparently, their 'old boss' used to ride around in stuff like this. Been begging me to build 'em."

"And you haven't?" Compress asked with theatrical disbelief. "Why, these are art pieces! A true villain needs style, drama, presence!"

"I've been a little busy," Izuku shot back. "Bank jobs. Hero trollings. Media takeovers. Getting chased by flaming lunatics. You know—villain things." As well as trolling U.A examinees.

"Still," Excavator hummed, studying the blueprints with growing excitement, "the designs are solid. Efficient. Intimidating. Quirky, but effective. You really should consider them."

"I would, if I had the parts," Izuku said bluntly. "But I've had my hands full lately."

At that, Excavator grinned beneath his visor. "Then allow me."

Izuku looked at him, intrigued but skeptical. "You saying you can build these?"

Excavator leaned back with a cocky grin. "If you give me the space and the time, I can get it done. One month. That's all I need. Your minions and I—if they follow instructions—we can build both."

Izuku's eyes narrowed. "You want to take command of my minions?"

"I want to work with them," Excavator clarified. "Look, I get it—you don't trust people. Can't blame you. But this?" He tapped the Grumobile blueprint. "This is you. A signature. Something that says 'Deku was here' without you even having to speak."

There was a long silence. Izuku's eyes scanned the blueprints again. He imagined it: gliding across the skyline in a high-powered, hyper-custom villain vehicle, all eyes on him. Everyone would know exactly who it belonged to.

...He really did need an upgrade.

Finally, he sighed. "Fine. But this doesn't make us best friends. You try anything, I'll freeze you solid and feed you to the sharks." Izuku said, putting his own twist into that saying. He's been watching a lot of those mafia movies lately.

Compress chuckled. "Oh, he's warming up to you."

Excavator gave a mock salute. "Understood, boss." He said before extending his hand toward the young villain. "So? Partners?"

Izuku stared at it for a long second. Then, slowly, he reached out and shook.

"Partners."

After things had settled down, Izuku shook his head but couldn't hide the faintest smirk. "I swear, I've somehow gained two allies tonight. Is this what team-building feels like? Disgusting."

He turned and looked at the blueprints again, a glint of ambition sharpening in his eyes.

"One month," he said. "By then, I'll steal the Tokyo Tower. And I'll do it riding in style."

Excavator's brows rose behind the dark visor of his helmet. Even with his face partially obscured, the surprise in his tone was impossible to miss. "Stealing Tokyo Tower? Is that your next grand plan? That's not just bold—that's borderline mythic."

He gave a low whistle, folding his arms with a low chuckle. "You don't think small, do you?"

"Indeed, "Mr. Compress chimed in smoothly, adjusting his mask as he twirled his cane with theatrical flair. "Our young mastermind here is not just chasing notoriety—he's rewriting the definition of villainy. Audacity and style—ah! It's almost poetic."

Izuku crossed his arms and leaned back, a self-satisfied grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Why bother being a villain if you're not going to make history?" he said simply. "I'm going to give the world something they'll never forget."

Excavator nodded slowly. "Then we've got a lot of work to do." He said. "With time, materials, and your minions as a workforce," Excavator gestured to the waddling, babbling crowd now trying to stack a microwave on top of a toolbox for no reason at all. "Like I said, I can have them built in a month. Maybe less. Depends on how often they explode things accidentally."

One minion in the background tripped over a wrench and launched another minion into a fan.

"...Yeah," Izuku muttered. "You're gonna need a workshop that's blast-resistant."

"Already have one," Excavator replied with a smirk. "Hidden underneath an abandoned construction site in the industrial district. Comes with reinforced walls, stealth shielding, and a popcorn machine."

"...I don't even care about the popcorn part and I'm still impressed. You really came to me prepared, didn't you?" Izuku said, impressed.

Excavator gave a proud tilt of his head. "Let's just say I don't half-ass anything. If I'm going to work with someone, especially someone who's shaking the foundations of hero society the way you are, I make sure I come ready."

1 week later.

Katsuki stood just outside U.A.'s massive front gates, hands in his pockets, eyes narrowed up at the building towering above him. His posture was rigid, his mouth a hard line. Admittedly, he does feel a little nervous.

Katsuki reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, the screen lighting up with the last message he’d received.

Mom:
“Don’t start any fights. Keep your head down. Or don’t. I don’t care. Just don’t embarrass me. And try to be better from now on.”

Short. Sharp. Classic.

He sighed and scrolled down to the next one—the message from Mirko.

Mirko:
“Good luck. Don’t fail me, brat. I don’t wanna feel like I trained you for nothing but a waste of my time.”

Katsuki stared at the screen for a long moment before scoffing quietly to himself.

“Thanks. Real encouraging,” he muttered sarcastically as he pocketed his phone back.

This place was supposed to be a fresh start. A chance to prove that he wasn't the person he used to be. Still, the echoes of his past actions clung to him, quiet and heavy.

"Yo! Bakugou!"

Katsuki turned his head slightly and saw a familiar mop of aggressively styled red hair approaching with an energetic wave.

Kirishima, as always, had too much energy for one person. His red spiked hair looked even wilder than before—clearly styled up with extra gel for the occasion.

Katsuki stared for a moment. "...Did you spike it even higher?"

"Pretty manly, right? Thought I'd go extra spiky for our first day! Gotta make a strong impression!" Kirishima grinned, giving a thumbs-up.

Katsuki just stared. "You look like a rejected hair gel commercial."

Kirishima just laughed it off, like always. "You're just jealous I can pull this off."

Katsuki didn't reply right away. He just let out a quiet, dismissive grunt and started walking toward the gates.

Kirishima jogged to catch up, undeterred by the cold shoulder. "C'mon, man, lighten up. You made it! We both did. That's pretty awesome, right?"

Katsuki gave a vague nod but didn't say anything. He didn't really know what to say. Every word felt too heavy, or too pointless.

Kirishima didn't press him, but he kept the conversation light anyway, as if to fill the silence with something other than thoughts.

"Hey, I saw Deku on the news again—y'know, the quirkless villain who made a joke out of Endeavor?" he said, trying not to laugh as he remembered the trending 'dumpster situation' that the No. 2 hero got himself in recently as they neared the school doors. "Kinda wild, huh? I mean, no quirk and he still outsmarted everyone!"

That stopped Katsuki in his tracks for just a split second. He glanced down, his fists curling ever so slightly in his jacket pockets.

"...Yeah," he said quietly, his voice lower. "Wild."

Kirishima gave him a curious look, but didn't push it.

"Anyway," Kirishima said with a grin, "first day. Let's not make it our last, yeah?"

Katsuki didn't smile, but he nodded again. That time, it felt more like an agreement.

They stepped through the doors of U.A., side by side—an unlikely pair: one quiet and haunted, the other loud and unshakably optimistic.

The hallway stretched long and quiet, but the closer they got to Class 1-A, the louder it became—murmurs, footsteps, the occasional thud. Kirishima pushed open the door first, Katsuki just a step behind him.

Inside, half of the class was already there, chatting, stretching, or minding their own business. But two students immediately caught their attention.

A tall boy with sharp, dark-blue hair and glasses was scolding another student with the head of a raven.

"I've told you twice now," the tall boy said stiffly, gesturing at a nearby chair, "tables are not for sitting! They are surfaces designated for academic materials, not—" he flinched as the avian-headed boy turned slowly to face him.

"Does not the table bear the weight of thought...so too, may it bear the weight of man?" the raven boy said ominously, his voice echoing like it belonged in a monologue for a school play titled Death and Shadows.

The bespectacled boy blinked. "That...doesn't even make any sense!"

"Nor does life," the raven replied simply.

Kirishima chuckled, clearly entertained.

Katsuki, on the other hand, stood silent at the door. This is the class I'm in? Great.

Everyone turned their heads, finally noticing the new arrivals.

The tall boy gasped as if they'd just walked into his courtroom. "Ah! You must be new classmates!" He marched over, posture ramrod straight and tone far too enthusiastic to be natural. "My name is Tenya Iida from the prestigious Soumei Private Academy! It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance!"

Kirishima recoiled slightly at the intensity, then grinned awkwardly and shook his hand. "Uh, Eijiro Kirishima. Nice to meet ya, man!"

Katsuki just stared at Iida's outstretched hand. After a long pause, he muttered a low, "...Yo," and kept his hands in his pockets.

Iida held the pose for a few awkward seconds before slowly retracting his arm, expression twitching with confusion—but he composed himself quickly.

"I admire your concise greeting!" he said, almost too loudly. "Efficiency is key to hero work!"

Kirishima chuckled nervously. "Y-Yeah... right."

From across the room, someone muttered, "Man, Class 1-A's already weird." Another student added, "I'm gonna love it here."

As the trio stood by the door, Kirishima leaned toward Katsuki and whispered, "Y'know, for once, I think you're not the scariest person in the room."

Katsuki didn't respond. But his eye gave the tiniest twitch, like he was already regretting everything.

Soon enough, the class was fully gathered, and the students began settling into their assigned seats.

Kirishima let out a dramatic gasp when he noticed his name tag was several rows away from Bakugou. "Bro! We're being separated?! This is the end! The system's broken, man!"

Katsuki didn't even look at him. He just made a gruff, half-annoyed grunt and walked over to his seat. "Deal with it."

"But brooo—!"

"Sit down."

With mock tears and exaggerated sobs, Kirishima flopped into his own desk, mumbling about how betrayal had never felt so personal.

As more students filtered in, a quiet murmur of introductions and small talk began to fill the room—until it was cut short by the sharp click of the classroom door sliding open again.

A disheveled figure in black shuffled in, his gait slow and slouched like someone who hadn't slept in days. His eyes were half-lidded, his scarf wrapped lazily around his neck, and his general aura screamed 'I did not ask for this.'

From within a yellow sleeping bag that he dragged along the floor like a lazy caterpillar, he muttered, "My name is Shota Aizawa. I'm your homeroom teacher."

Half the class blinked in confusion.

"He was...napping in that thing?" someone whispered.

Bakugou didn't respond, his sharp eyes narrowing on Aizawa.

"I don't like wasting time," Aizawa continued with all the enthusiasm of a dying battery. "So we're skipping orientation. Here." He reached into his sleeping bag and pulled something out, revealing a pair of neatly folded gym uniforms. "Put these on and meet me at the sports field. We're doing a Quirk Apprehension Test."

The class collectively reeled in disbelief.

"Wait, what happened to orientation?!"

"A test on the first day?!"

But Aizawa was already walking away. "No time for that. You're here to be heroes, not socialize."

Meanwhile...

Back in his base, surrounded by pieces of equipment, mechanical arms, and scattered blueprints, Izuku Midoriya froze mid-solder. His goggles rested atop his head, and his attention was caught by the sound of the small radio beside him—Bakugou's phone feed, audio tapped and streaming right into his base.

"...Name's Shota Aizawa. I'm your homeroom teacher."

Deku's eyes widened slightly. "Aizawa? Eraserhead?"

He paused, turning the volume up. His fingers moved automatically to a nearby pile of quirk-analysis notebooks stacked in military-grade organization. Each one had color-coded tabs, little minion stickers, and messy scribbles in the margins.

"Perfect," Izuku muttered, already flipping open a new page, labelling it 'Class 1-A Quirk Surveillance: Day 1.'He was prepared to write down every single quirk and weakness he heard, eager to build tactical profiles on them all.

He smirked. If the class started with introductions, he'd get everything he needed.

Except...they didn't.

Aizawa's monotone voice through the feed sent a spike of annoyance up Izuku's spine.

"...You've got ten minutes to get changed and meet me at the field. We're starting with a quirk apprehension test."

He narrowed his eyes. "...Tch. Damn you, Eraserhead," Izuku muttered bitterly.

"Big boss! Banana?" One of the nearby minions slid across the floor wearing an oversized lab coat, offering him a banana. Izuku absentmindedly waved it away.

His notebook lay open beside him, filled with observations and early sketches. So far, he only had two entries:

Katsuki Bakugou – Quirk: Explosion. Temperamental. Predictable in combat. High damage, low restraint.

Eijiro Kirishima – Quirk: Hardening. Defense-type. Reckless but tenacious. Naïve.

He sighed.

"This was supposed to be easy intel. First day of school, everyone gives their name and quirk. Now we're doing tests instead?"

He scribbled an added quick note in the page that he had Eraserhead's info:
Aizawa – strategic thinker. Breaks routine. May counter predictability. Dangerous.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath, leaning back in his chair. He shifted his focus to the audio feed, hoping to catch something useful from Bakugou's classmates. Anything.

Come on...someone brag about your stupid quirk already.

But then the feed soon just went silent.

"...Huh?" Izuku blinked, as he checked the radio, wondering if there was something wrong with it.

Then it hit him. Bakugou must've left his phone in the changing room.

Izuku's eye twitched in frustration, tapping his fingers irritably against the desk. "Of course." His anger simmered just under the surface. He really got into U.A. That bastard really made it.

With a bitter exhale, he pushed back from his desk, grabbed one of his gauntlets, and stood. "Fine. Guess I'll go blow off some steam."

He headed toward the testing chamber at the far end of his base—ready to trial the prototype Excavator had given him.

Back at U.A., on the training field, the class of 1-A stood in a line, dressed in their new sports uniforms, the morning sun casting long shadows across the turf. Aizawa stood before them, eyes half-lidded but voice sharp as a blade.

"As I said earlier, this is a Quirk Apprehension Test," he droned. "You'll be doing eight physical tests to determine your potential."

Murmurs of disbelief and complaint bubbled up from the students again.

"But sir, we haven't even had orientation yet—"

"Yeah! This feels kinda sudden—"

Aizawa's scarf shifted slightly. "Oh? You're not used to sudden? Too bad. Heroes don't get warm-ups when a villain kicks down their door."

The protests quieted slightly—until Aizawa dropped the hammer. "And for the record: the student who comes in last will be expelled."

A full beat of silence followed.

"WHAT?!" several students shouted.

"That's not fair!" Ochako exclaimed.

"It's our first day!" A boy who had a black lightning bolt in his yellow hair, Denki Kaminari, groaned.

"I thought this was supposed to be a school! Not boot camp!" another voice called.

Aizawa's expression didn't change. "Fair?" he repeated. "You think the world's fair?"

He walked forward slowly, eyes sweeping over the class.

"Natural disasters. Fatal accidents. Corruption. Political instability. Selfish villains who prey on the weak. Heroes are supposed to be the last line of defense against all of it. And sometimes...society fails people. They fall through the cracks."

His tone darkened slightly.

"And when they do, they turn into villains."

A pause hung in the air.

The entire class thought the same thing at once.

Deku.

"...You mean like that villain, Deku?" someone asked cautiously.

Aizawa gave no verbal response—just a brief pause, his lips tightening before he turned away, ignoring the question completely.

He walked over to a device and picked up a ball, tossing it toward Bakugou.

"Katsuki Bakugou. You scored second highest in the entrance exam. Let's see what you can do. Use your quirk. Throw the ball from the circle as far as you can."

Katsuki caught the ball, eyes narrowing. "Alright. Got it." He simply said.

A few murmurs broke out among the students.

"Wait, second highest?" Kaminari blinked. "Then who the heck came first?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" said Hanta Sero, the one who had cylinder-like elbows. "Some mysterious white-haired guy named Felonious Gru. Quirkless, too."

The class erupted with fresh confusion.

"Quirkless? You're kidding."

"No way that's true!"

"He didn't even accept his spot," another student said. "Said he only did it to prove a point."

"...That's so petty," The invisible girl, Toru Hagakure said with a baffled laugh.

"Honestly? I'm never underestimating quirkless people ever again," A person with a tail, Mashirao Ojiro added, looking genuinely impressed.

Before the conversation could gain more traction, Aizawa's scarf lifted and snapped like a whip. "Focus," he snapped. "You're not here to gossip. You're here to survive."

The class immediately fell silent again.

Katsuki stepped into the circle, his grip tightening around the ball. His jaw was clenched, but his expression lacked the arrogance it once held. Gone was the overconfident smirk. Gone was the bark of bravado that used to follow his every move.

The old him would've thrown the ball like a grenade, screaming "DIE!" like a war cry to the heavens. But not today and from now on.

Today, he was trying.

Trying to be better.

He had to.

He remembered Izuku—how that nerd used to talk about All Might with stars in his eyes. About what it meant to save, not just to win. About why someone would want to be a hero in the first place.

Katsuki's breath steadied.

He wound up his arm.

His stance widened.

He gritted his teeth, heat simmering in his palm, and then—

Across the city, deep inside a reinforced training chamber, Izuku Midoriya stood alone. His eyes glanced down at the sleek, angular shape of his latest weapon, Excavator's compact fusion-powered rivet launcher. It was beautiful. Clean. Cold. Efficient.

But Izuku's hands were trembling.

His thoughts weren't on the weapon. They were on the U.A. entrance exam. On Bakugou. On the announcement of his acceptance. On everything that he had lost—and everything Katsuki had been handed without consequence.

He got in. Of course he got in.

Because U.A. doesn't care about justice. They don't care about who you are, just what your quirk can do.

He clenched his teeth, fingers tightening around the grip. Rage bubbled in his chest like magma. His breaths quickened.

All that abuse. All those years. And they still gave him everything.

His eyes burned. His heart pounded.

And me?

They told me I was nothing.

His finger hovered over the trigger.

And then, in a moment of pure, unfiltered emotion, he didn't aim at a target.

He aimed up.

At that very instant—across opposite ends of the city—two voices simultaneously rose, shouting at the sky.

"SMAAAASH!!!"

"DIE!!!"

One filled with hope and desperate growth.

The other bursting with fury and aching spite.

The ball sailed through the sky, burning a trail of heat as it vanished beyond the clouds.

A moment later, the device on Aizawa's hand beeped.

"705.2 meters."

The class gasped.

"Holy crap..."

"Dude, he blasted that thing!"

"No way that was the same guy who just grunted 'yo' earlier..."

Aizawa adjusted his device. "That's the level of performance expected at U.A. Now—each of you, step up. Let's see what you've got."

The leaderboard lit up with the students' names and their rankings. All eyes turned to the screen, nerves high.

"...I'm not last," Mineta whimpered, nearly sobbing.

Near the top, just below the #1 rank said Katsuki Bakugou. Before anyone could react, Aizawa cleared his throat.

"The expulsion threat," he said, his voice as dry as ever, "was a logical lie."

A beat of stunned silence followed.

"You—what?!" a pink-skinned girl with horns cried out.

Aizawa gave the most soulless, monotone version of a smile imaginable. "It was a logical ruse," He said, not a hint of remorse in his voice. "The threat was meant to draw out your full potential under pressure."

A beat of silence.

"...That's messed up," someone muttered.

"Get used to it," Aizawa said. "You're at U.A. now."

With that, everyone got back to their school uniforms and headed back to class. This time, they were able to actually do their orientation.

A loud clang rang out as the rivet launcher discharged, punching through three layers of reinforced scrap metal before fizzling out against a wall of concrete.

Izuku stood still, breathing heavily, the weapon lowered. He hadn't expected to scream like that...but it had felt good.

He exhaled slowly and powered the launcher down.

"Okay," he muttered to himself. "Meltdown over. Back to work."

Just as he was turning to start recalibrating the launcher, a light blinked on one of the monitors nearby. Katsuki's phone was active again.

A sly smirk curled on his lips. "Finally. About time, Kacchan."

He tossed the rivet launcher onto a worktable and sat down at his console. With a few taps, he reconnected to the hacked feed and turned up the volume on the radio once again.

"Alright, now that we've gotten the test out of the way," Aizawa said, eyes half-lidded as usual, "we'll move on to orientation. Introduce yourselves—name and quirk. You're going to be working together for a while, might as well know who you're dealing with."

The students murmured as they shuffled back to their seats, the tension from the earlier threat slowly wearing off.

"Whoever wants to go first, go. Whatever. Wake me up when it's done." he said before retreating back to his yellow sleeping bag and actually began sleeping beneath the whiteboard, causing everyone in class to sweat drop.

Nonetheless, the class begun to do as said. The first one being a girl with pink skin and black sclera stood up, bright and chipper. "Hi! I'm Mina Ashido, and my quirk is Acid! I can secrete it from my body and even adjust how strong it is!"

Izuku, listening from his base, scribbled rapidly.

Ashido, Mina – Quirk: Acid. High mobility + melting potential. Dangerous in close combat. Weakness? Slippery footing possible.

"She's...loud," he muttered. "Probably the type to run in without thinking."

Next came the dark-haired, quiet boy with the raven head.

"I am Fumikage Tokoyami. My quirk is called Dark Shadow."

He didn't elaborate much. Only what his quirk was about, which only made his ominous aura more intense.

Tokoyami, Fumikage – Quirk: Dark Shadow. Autonomous energy construct. Possibly sentient. Strength dependent on light exposure. Weak in bright areas. Powerful at night. Note: edgy.

Izuku raised an impressed brow. "Now that's a cool power. I'll need light-based countermeasures for him. Maybe a portable spotlight drone..."

The overly energetic boy with lightning bolt-shaped hair stood next.

"I'm Denki Kaminari! My quirk's Electrification! I can shoot electricity through my body! But if I overdo it, I kinda short-circuit and go dumb for a while..."

A few students chuckled, and Kaminari grinned sheepishly.

Kaminari, Denki – Quirk: Electrification. AoE potential. Drawback: fried brain. Exploit after big attack. Probably won't even remember I was there.

Izuku deadpanned. "A human battery with the memory of a goldfish. Great."

One by one, the students introduced themselves.

"Kyouka Jirou. My Quirk is Earphone Jack. I can plug these into stuff and channel sound waves. Good for surveillance and disruption."

Jirou, Kyouka – Sound-based. Tactical. Must avoid stealth missions near her. Might like music. Potential minion fan she said? Must investigate.

"Ojiro. My Quirk is 'Tail.'"

"...That's it?" Izuku blinked.

Ojiro, Mashirao – Tail. It's a tail.

An energetic female voice came in.

"Hey, everyone! My name is Hagakure Toru! And My Quirk is being invisible!"

Hagakure – Invisibility. Danger: Stealth. Weakness: Lack of combat presence. Beware flying objects.

"...Wait, so she's naked all the time?" Izuku squinted. "Okay, weird. Let's move on."

It then came to a familiar voice.

"Kirishima Eijiro! My quirk is Hardening—I can make my whole body tough as rock! Perfect for brawling! Plus, it's super manly!"

Izuku didn't write anything as he already had info on him and awaited for the next one.

"I'm Ochako Uraraka! My quirk is Zero Gravity! I can make objects weightless by touching them!" she said with a grin and a slight bounce in her step.

Uraraka, Ochako – Quirk: Zero Gravity. Great mobility potential. Rescue utility. Limitation: nausea from overuse. Note: rescued by me during the entrance exam. Still suspiciously chipper.

Izuku scribbled, briefly pausing and smirked. "Ah...Uraraka-san. Good to see you again." He said in an almost fond tone as remembered her bright smile and the way she called him "Gru" like they were old friends.

Next came a girl with long hair and a calm, almost sleepy voice.
"Tsuyu Asui. Call me Tsu. My quirk is Frog. I can do anything a frog can. Ribbit."

Asui, Tsuyu – Quirk: Frog. Excellent agility. Amphibious capabilities. Possibly enhanced tongue reach. Underestimate her and I'll get suplexed by a frog. Great.

"She's got stealth potential. Definitely don't fight her near water."

Then, a sparkly blond boy stood up, dramatically flaring as if he had a cape on.
"I am Yuga Aoyama! My quirk: Navel Laser. I sparkle with FABULOUS destruction~!"

There was a beat of silence in Izuku's lair before he slowly wrote:

Aoyama, Yuga – Quirk: Navel Laser. Overconfidence: 10/10. Utility: situational. Drawback: stomachaches. Vibe: unsettling.

"...Okay, sure."

Then came the game-changers.

"I'm Momo Yaoyorozu," said the elegant girl who stood up next. "My quirk is Creation—I can create any non-living object as long as I understand its molecular structure."

Izuku's hand froze.

Yaoyorozu, Momo – Quirk: Creation. High-level power. Requires intelligence and planning. Dangerous. Watch her. Possibly the smartest person here.

"She's not just strong. She's prepared." Izuku scoffed. "Tch. How annoying."

But then, him.

The one who stepped forward without speaking at first. A quiet intensity filled the room before he even opened his mouth.

"...Shoto Todoroki. My quirk is Half-Cold Half-Hot."

That was all he said.

Izuku's eyes narrowed, immediately flipping to a fresh page in his notebook.

Todoroki, Shoto – Quirk: Ice & Fire hybrid. Son of Endeavor/flaming meathead. Prodigy hero. Dual-element manipulation = extreme danger. Calm, calculating demeanor. Avoid direct confrontation until countermeasures are developed.

Izuku narrowed his eyes dangerously as he muttered, "Yeah. You're gonna be a problem."

Then finally...Katsuki Bakugou stood.

Izuku seemed to brace himself, expecting an arrogant yell, an aggressive declaration, or some kind of explosion. Instead in the classroom, Katsuki just rubbed the back of his head and muttered:

"...I'm Katsuki Bakugou. My quirk is Explosions. I can explode things with my hands."

And he sat down again as the class moved on.

Izuku was silent.

."...That's it?" he blinked. "No yelling? No 'I'm the best'? What the hell?"

He slowly added on to the page that he had Katsuki's info on:

Bakugou, Katsuki – Quirk: Explosion. Self-doubt confirmed. Restraining himself. Progressing? Don't trust it. But observe. Closely.

Izuku leaned back in his chair, shifting through all the notes he just made. And then, a grin pulled at his lips.

"Perfect."

As the orientation soon came to an end, Izuku's notebook filled rapidly. Diagrams, counters, observations, even a few doodles of minions reenacting student quirks (he couldn't help it).

But even as he wrote, one thought lingered in the back of his mind.

These people...They're not just rookies. Some of them are serious threats. And they don't even know I'm listening.

He smirked to himself.

"Better keep talking, Class 1-A. This villain's taking notes."

The school bell rang, marking the end of U.A.'s very first day. The classroom buzzed with energy, students chatting about the quirk apprehension test, complaining about Aizawa's deadpan teaching style, and laughing over how intense the whole day had been.

Katsuki, meanwhile, was already packing up, quiet as ever. He moved with an efficient calmness, ignoring the chatter around him.

"Yo, Bakugou!" Kirishima called out cheerfully, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "Wanna walk home together? There's a ramen place on the way I've been wanting to try! Spicy stuff, you'll love it!"

Katsuki opened his mouth, ready to give a noncommittal shrug, when—

"Katsuki Bakugou, please report to the principal's office."

The entire class fell silent. Heads turned. A few murmurs broke out.

"Wait, what'd he do already?"

"What could have he possibly done on the first day to be called to the principal's office...?"

"Wasn't he, like...calm today?"

Katsuki just sighed.

His expression didn't change much, but there was something behind his eyes, a kind of dull acceptance, like someone remembering a chore they'd been dreading. He slung his bag over his shoulder and muttered under his breath, "Ah...right. That therapy shit."

Kirishima blinked. "Huh—therapy? What—"

But Katsuki was already out the door, hands in his pockets, not in the mood to explain.

Principal Nezu sat on his desk, sipping tea with his usual unnervingly cheerful expression as Katsuki stepped in. Aizawa stood off to the side, arms crossed, watching the boy carefully.

"You wanted to see me," Katsuki said, his tone dry but not disrespectful.

"Yes," Nezu chirped, setting his teacup down. "Thank you for coming, Mr. Bakugou. I imagine you already know why you're here."

Katsuki nodded once. "My parents told me."

Nezu's smile didn't waver. "Good. Then I won't waste your time with a long speech. You've been accepted into U.A., yes. But as I said to your parents—there are conditions."

"I have to go to therapy," Katsuki said flatly. "With Hound Dog."

"Correct!" Nezu said, tail flicking once. "This is not a punishment, Mr. Bakugou. It's an opportunity. One I believe you—deep down—know you need."

Aizawa finally spoke. "Your past can't be ignored, Bakugou. We're not here to brand you a villain or make an example of you. But we're also not going to let things slide just because you performed well on the exam."

Katsuki said nothing.

"You're going to meet with Hound Dog once a week," Nezu continued. "Sessions are mandatory. You will also be evaluated periodically on your behavior in and outside of class. This isn't about control. It's about growth."

"...Tch," Katsuki clicked his tongue, eyes cast down. Not defiant—just frustrated with himself. "...Fine."

"We'll be watching," Aizawa said simply, not as a threat, but a promise.

Katsuki turned toward the door, then paused.

"...Thanks. I guess."

Nezu's ears perked. "You're welcome. Your first session starts tomorrow after school!" He informed cheerfully.

Katsuki soon exited, rubbing the back of his neck. His head felt heavy—not from anger, but from the truth of it all settling in. He knew he had it coming. He knew the consequences were fair. Still, hearing it laid out like this...it made everything that happened with Izuku feel more real than ever.

He walked off down the hall in silence.

One step at a time. That was all he could do.

Back at his base, Izuku lounged in a modified beanbag throne, a tired sigh escaping his lips. His goggles were pulled up, his gloves discarded, and one of his boots halfway unlaced. It had been a long week of inventions, heists, planning, gaining new allies and dealing with his ever-chaotic minions (one of whom had somehow gotten a flamethrower stuck in a microwave again).

But something Mr. Compress had said stuck with him.

"You have quite the fanbase, you know."

Izuku frowned, tapping his finger his thigh. He still couldn't quite believe it.

Fans?

It sounded absurd. Who in their right mind would admire a villain—a quirkless villain, no less? Sure, he was inventive, resourceful, wildly unpredictable, and yes, okay, a little stylish, but fans?

Still...curiosity tugged at him.

Izuku raised a confused brow. 'Because apparently, I have fans now.' he thought.

So, out of curiosity, Izuku decided to go on to the internet and just see how exactly the people viewed him.

"Alright...let's see what people on the inetrnet have to say about me." Izuku said as he flipped open a laptop. He pulled up social media feeds, blogs, and forums. He expected slander. He expected outrage. He expected long, wordy opinion pieces from pro hero loyalists talking about how "dangerous and deranged" he was.

And yes, all of that was definitely there.

But...

There was also fan art.

There were memes.

There were fan pages.

There was even a viral minion dance challenge.

Izuku stared at the screen in stunned silence.

@QuirklessButCool  • 5h
Okay but hear me out: Deku's actually brilliant. Like yeah, villain and all that, but he's kind of... killing it???
11k retweets 1.5k quote tweets 18k likes

@MinionNation420 • 2h
The minions mooning the camera after freezing Mustafu's water supply was ICONIC behavior.
9k retweets 1k quote tweets 12k likes | #DekuSweep trending

@WhoNeedsQuirks • 7h
People mad at Deku just jealous a quirkless guy outsmarted Japan's top heroes WITH A FUCKING ICE GUN.
Pinned tweet
10k retweets 1.5k quote tweets 18k likes

@HeroFanGirl • 4h
I know he's technically a villain, but if Deku dropped a merch line I would buy EVERYTHING.
8k retweets 998k quote tweets 1k likes
Reply thread full of minion plushie edits and 'FREE THE BANANA BOYS' shirts

Izuku blinked.

Then blinked again.

"...What the actual hell..."

There were even full video essays titled "Deku: Villain or Visionary?" and "Why The System Failed Deku."

He scrolled further.

@NewsNetJP • 12h
"Deku, the rising enigma in villainy, strikes again. Chaos? Yes. Deaths? Surprisingly few. Message? TBD."
81k retweets 23k quote tweets 25k likes

Izuku slumped further into his beanbag.

"...I really do have fans."

And while he knew that shouldn't matter, because he didn't care what people thought, it still lit something strange in his chest. Not pride. Not joy. No, more like...baffled amusement.

But then again, he had worked hard.

Still, one part of his mind grounded him. He never killed. Not because of any noble or moral reason. Or that he believed in mercy or redemption or any of that tired hero propaganda and whatnot. No, it was simply out of principle.

Killing was messy. Sloppy. Inefficient. And above all, it was tasteless.

He wasn't some bloodthirsty thug in a back alley swinging knives.

He was an artist.

A villain with flair. He made statements, not massacres.

Even when he blew up Aldera Middle School during his infamous debut, he double-checked the building to make sure all his minions had evacuated and to give one last pass to make sure no poor soul was still inside.

He distinctly remembered looking for the security guard he tranquilized to get him out of there...only to find no trace of him.

"Huh..." Izuku murmured now, rubbing his chin. "I wonder what happened to that guy."

He shrugged it off. Probably took the day off or transferred. Not his problem.

Returning to the screen, he smirked, watching one animated video loop of a minion slipping on a banana peel, falling into a police van, and somehow making the whole vehicle flip.

After spiraling down the rabbit hole of his unexpected fanbase, Izuku figured he'd seen enough internet for one night. That was, until a curious tab caught his eye on a side forum link, something he hadn't noticed before.

r/Deku
General discussions about the rising villain Deku, real-time sightings, conspiracy threads, speculation about his tech, etc.

That made sense.

But then he saw the next one.

Welcome to r/DekuTheType! A community to poke lighthearted fun at the young villain, Deku (Izuku Midoriya), and the type of cartoonish gremlin he is.💚

“‘Cartoonish gremlin’—EXCUSE ME?!” Izuku sputtered, nearly choking.

The subreddit's profile picture was a cursed image of him mid-laugh from a news clip, but with added blush stickers, anime sparkles, and what looked like a Hello Kitty bow photoshopped onto his head that had cat ears as well.

He clicked on it, cautiously. The page loaded, and he was greeted with pastel flair tags that made his eyes twitch in both annoyance and bewilderment.

Flair examples:

🥰Deku being a cutie patootie~
😜Our little gremlin and his army of little gremlins
🤪The quirky quirkless
🦹‍♂️Despicable Deku
🧠Mischievous Mastermind
😈Deku being devious and petty
🍌Minion madness

"...The fuck am I looking at?" Izuku muttered, dragging a hand down his face in both embarrassment and horror. And then he started scrolling through the top posts.

u/ChaosW/Style
Deku the type to sneak around like this when he's about to do something mischievous:
🦹‍♂️Despicable Deku

💬 20.3k upvotes – 482 comments

“That’s literally how he moved in the water supply heist, you can’t convince me otherwise.”

Izuku averted his eyes.

He did sneak like that during the news station break-in…but that was for stealth. Those are totally different things!

Totally.

u/SneakySqweekies
Deku the type of guy to try sneaking into a hero agency wearing a trench coat stacked on top of a minion.
🧠Mischievous Mastermind

💬 11.5k upvotes – 326 comments

“One hundred percent canon behavior.”

u/TechGremlinSupremacy
Deku the type to get in a fight like this:
🤪The quirky quirkless

💬 9.1k upvotes – 201 comments

"You just know his head is popping out for a few seconds and then getting pulled back in the fight by a mysterious hand."

u/DekuFan#21
Deku the type of Cartoon Calvin to dust off his hands after lightwork.
🥰Deku being a cutie patootie~

💬 4k upvotes – 56 comments

“…What the hell is this place,” Izuku whispered, his brow twitching.

And worst of all?

The subreddit had over 130k followers.

“That’s more than the students U.A. even has,” he muttered aloud, scandalized.

He scrolled again and there were shitposts and posts discussing about either Izuku himself or the minions every now and then.

u/MinionStan93:
I just wanna pinch those cheeks of his! They’re so round and evil and boopable >~< 💚
🥰Deku being a cutie patootie~
[Attached: A painfully accurate chibi fanart of Deku with blush, pouting, and two minions hugging his legs.]

💬 1k upvotes – 25 comments

u/PlotTwistQueen:
Is there a lore reason why he became a villain? Is he stupid?

💬 823 upvotes – 29 comments

u/Heroesvsvillains66: “Bro has ‘tragic goofy origin story’ energy. Like if Joker from Persona 5 fell into a vat of cartoon logic instead of trauma.”
u/AllMightstan69: “Deku was bullied, society failed him, and he retaliated by throwing banana fart bombs at hero agencies. Honestly? Based.”
u/ThisAgedPoorly123: “Don’t question the gremlin. The gremlin has his reasons.”
u/WeirdlyDeepTake: “He’s an existential reflection of society’s obsession with quirks and rejection of ingenuity. Also, he makes banana bombs and makes cool tech and shit. So idk. He also has minions.”
u/EndeavorHater9000: “I’m here for the memes. That’s it.”
u/CutieWithNoQuirk: “He’s like if a cartoon mad scientist and an anime protagonist had a baby and raised it on spite.”

Izuku just stared at the screen, a storm of emotions brewing.

Embarrassed? Sure. Offended? Absolutely. Bashful?

…A little.

Because the fanart? Some of it was actually good. Like really good. There was even one of him dramatically standing atop a frozen city block with minions throwing confetti in the background. Another of him sipping tea smugly on top of a captured hero, pinky out, monocle on.

"...Huh," Izuku muttered.

He didn't know how to feel. On one hand, this was technically slander. On the other hand...it wasn't mean. If anything, it was bizarrely affectionate. Some of these users were clearly obsessed. Others were just poking fun at how cartoonishly dramatic he was, and he did sneak around like that sometimes. He was self-aware enough to admit it, but not out loud, though.

He rubbed the bridge of his nose with a sigh, chuckling despite himself. “This is what my reputation’s come to, huh?”

Not fear. Not hate. Not infamy, even if there were a couple of that here and there.

No. There were memes.

Fan edits.

Digital head pats from strangers.

It was so ridiculous that, in a way, it almost made more sense than the path he used to walk. When he tried to be a hero—when he wanted to stand tall beside All Might, to protect people, to belong—he was ignored. Mocked. Stepped on.

But now?

Now that he’d embraced chaos and villainy, the world was paying attention. People talked about him. Obsessed over him. Not always with admiration, but with curiosity. With amusement. With...interest.

It was twisted. And it was validating.

If there were any lingering doubts in his mind about the path he’d chosen, they evaporated like mist under a spotlight. All those years of trying to do good had only left him broken. But now, as a villain—no, as Deku—he was seen.

So why stop now?

Izuku then leaned back, cracked his knuckles, and bookmarked the subreddit.

For research purposes. Totally.

Obviously.

Not because he was flattered or anything.

Nope.

It had been a week since they’d officially joined him, and while everything seemed to be going smoothly…Izuku still couldn’t shake the lingering weight of caution.

Trust wasn’t something that came easily to him anymore. Especially in his line of work.

He stood silently at the upper railing of his base’s main operations floor, arms crossed as he looked down at the chaos below. For once, it wasn’t the usual brand of minion chaos. No explosions, no “accidental” slip-ups, and—thankfully—no spontaneous karaoke sessions. Not yet, at least.

On one end of the room, Mr. Compress was in full theatrical mode, performing a makeshift magic show with exaggerated flair. A small group of minions sat in a semi-circle, gasping and clapping like children at a birthday party every time he pulled something new out of his hat—or his sleeve—or thin air.

“Ta-daaa!” Compress announced, producing a live pigeon from a puff of smoke. One minion fainted on the spot.

On the other side, Excavator was hunched over a cluttered workbench, sparks flying as he welded and shaped the smaller mechanical parts for the upcoming vehicles. He barked orders like a foreman while several minions buzzed around him, handing him tools, holding blueprints upside down, or somehow assembling things backward.

“Left wrench, not banana wrench—! No, wait, what even is a banana wrench?!”

Izuku sighed and rubbed his eyes behind his goggles.

This…this was what teamwork looked like now?

It felt strange. Not bad, just…weird. Foreign. Ever since he went full-time villain, the only beings he'd ever worked with were his minions. And while their loyalty was unwavering and their brand of chaos oddly effective, they weren’t exactly known for strategic collaboration.

Humans, though? Humans were complicated. Unpredictable. Selfish. And yet, somehow, these two, Compress and Excavator, had not only proven themselves useful, but strangely...reliable.

And worse, comfortable.

Izuku didn’t know how to feel about that.

He strolled towards Excavator where the soft hum of machinery and occasional minion-induced ruckus filling the air. Sparks crackled from one corner as Excavator worked at a bench surrounded by parts, metal casings, and blueprints. Several minions were scattered around him, attempting to help—but mostly getting in the way.

One tripped over an extension cord and faceplanted into a toolbox.

“I told you to hand me the calibrator, not the—AAAGH—WHY IS THAT ON FIRE?!”

Izuku stopped beside him, arms crossed. “You holding up okay?”

Excavator turned, mask up, soot on his cheek, and sighed dramatically. “Seriously, kid. I don’t know how you manage to keep up with these ridiculous henchmen of yours. I’m already exhausted, and I’ve only been here for a week!”

Izuku gave a tired smirk. “You get used to it. They’re chaotic, but when it matters, they get the job done…most of the time.”

They shared a glance, and then both instinctively ducked as a small explosion came from behind. A minion came flying past them wearing a traffic cone like a hat.

“…Yeah. Totally reliable.” Excavator muttered.

“I swear, they were worse before they started organizing themselves.”

Izuku leaned over the workstation, his sharp eyes scanning the half-assembled drill-tipped vehicle component Excavator was working on. “That’s impressive engineering. The way you integrated hydraulic impact stabilization with dual-shock recoil dampeners…That’s not standard design work.”

“Oh?” Excavator cocked his head. “Didn’t think a kid your age would catch that.”

Izuku scoffed. “I built a freeze ray at 10 and hacked U.A. at 15. Credit where it’s due, but don’t be surprised.”

Excavator chuckled. “Fair enough.”

A few beats passed as Izuku watched him work. Finally, he broke the silence.

“So. What’s your quirk?”

Excavator paused, his hand tightening a bolt. “Figured you’d ask eventually. It’s called Drill Hands. Like my brother’s ‘Iron Claws’, but more aggressive. Same basics: I can tunnel through anything, even reinforced metal and concrete, but I spin at much higher speeds. Gives me the edge in combat too, and not just construction, if the situation ever arises.”

Izuku nodded. “That tracks. I figured it was similar to Power Loader’s. You two share the same body language and are brothers after all.”

Raito grunted softly. “Yeah…not the only thing we share.”

The silence lingered. Izuku picked up a screwdriver, turning it slowly between his fingers.

“So why’d you join me?” he asked bluntly. “Back then, you said it was because I showed the strength of technology in a world obsessed with quirks. But you come from a hero family. For all I know, you’re some plant trying to get close to me.”

Excavator laughed, the sound dry and gravelly.

“My, you really are distrustful, huh?”

“I have to be in this line of work.”

“Fair point” Raito set down his tool and finally met Izuku’s gaze. “I wasn’t lying when I said I was tired of how society praises quirks like they're divine gifts. Technology, engineering, brains—those should matter too. But they don’t. Not here.”

He sighed and continued.

“As for my family…let’s just say my brother and I had a disagreement. A big one. I valued progress and advancement, he valued tradition and hero society’s way of doing things. That rift only got bigger. Eventually, I just...walked away.”

He didn't say more. And Izuku didn’t ask as it seemed to be a sensitive subject, so chose not to push it. For now.

But at least, now there was a concrete reason.

“…Fair enough,” Izuku said after a moment. “Thanks for telling me.”

“Thanks for not pushing,” Excavator replied.

Suddenly, Mr. Compress dramatically approached, entering the conversation. “Pardon the interruption, gentlemen! I’ve just concluded my spectacular performance for the small yellow ones, and I couldn’t help but notice the deep, emotional conversation unfolding over here.” He tapped his mask, curious. “So, what riveting topic are we discussing? Secrets? Betrayals? Schematics for world domination?”

Izuku gave him a deadpan stare. “Just confirming Excavator here isn’t a secret pro hero trying to stab me in the back.”

“Ah. Reasonable,” Compress nodded, oddly satisfied.

“And,” Excavator added with a smug tilt of his helmet, “I joined not just because I believe in showing the world the power of technology…” He leaned in with almost theatrical importance. “But also because I have a dream.”

Izuku blinked. “A dream?”

“A dream,” Excavator repeated.

Then he asked, with deadly seriousness, “Tell me, Deku—what do you think is man’s best friend?”

“Uhm...a dog?”

“No. A closet!”

“…What?”

Compress slowly turned his masked face toward Excavator, as if waiting for the punchline. It didn’t come.

“A closet,” Excavator repeated, arms crossed with absolute conviction. “The most reliable companion in a home. A guardian of secrets. A bastion of order in a chaotic world. Shoes, jackets, old tech, unfinished projects—they all find sanctuary in the closet.”

He threw his hands dramatically into the air. “And yet! People underestimate them. Abuse them. Fill them with junk. Forget them.”

Mr. Compress gave a slow, confused glance to Izuku, who just stood there, mouth slightly open.

“You’ve lost me,” Compress muttered.

With theatrical fervor, Excavator stood up and launched into a full-blown rant, pacing back and forth like a professor delivering a masterclass.

“My dream,” Excavator said, placing a hand over his chest, “is to revolutionize the closet industry. To usher in a new era where closets are treated with the respect and reverence they deserve!”

That's...a thing? both Izuku and Mr. Compress thought simultaneously.

“The...closet industry?” Izuku echoed, disbelief thick in his voice.

Excavator looked at the duo, almost looking offended. As if that was something that was expected to be common knowledge. “One of the most respected industries in the world! How do you not know that?!”

"Because it sounds...boring?" Mr. Compress answered hesitantly.

Excavator gasped like he’d been slapped. “Boring?! How dare you! Closets bring order to a chaotic world!”

And with that, he launched into another impassioned, borderline unhinged tirade about shelving angles, hinge efficiency, and modular space design. Mr. Compress quickly gave up trying to understand and leaned on the wall with his arms crossed, occasionally side-eyeing Izuku with a “Are you hearing this?” look.

Izuku, meanwhile, was frozen, expression blank. He listened. He processed. And eventually, he just sighed.

“...Sure,” he simply said in acceptance.

Inwardly, he was already regretting his decision. ‘What kind of person did I allow into my team…?’

Then in the background, a minion opened a nearby broom closet and was immediately buried in a pile of random leftover gadgets and banana peels.

…Okay, he might have a point.

As Excavator’s closet-themed rant finally petered out and the air settled, he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, eyes glinting behind his helmet’s visor. “You asked me why I became a villain, and I told you what my dream was.” He tilted his head curiously. “Now it’s my turn. What’s your dream, Deku?”

The question hung in the air.

Mr. Compress leaned in almost immediately, curiosity dancing in his tone. “Ah, now this is something I’ve been dying to know.” He rested his chin on the top of his cane, eyes locked onto Izuku. “You’ve never actually said it, have you? People argue about it constantly online—some think you’re a chaotic genius, others think you’re just a petty edgelord with style. But as a devoted fan, I must know—what drives you?”

Even a few minions nearby stopped what they were doing to glance over.

All eyes were on Izuku.

He stood quietly for a moment, hands in his pockets, eyes half-lidded in thought.

If it had been the old him—back when he still wore that bright-eyed optimism like a badge—he would have answered immediately. He would’ve looked them straight in the eye and said, “To become a hero like All Might. To save people with a smile.”

But that version of him was long gone.

Burned away in rejection, buried beneath the rubble of crushed dreams and mockery.

Now, that dream had twisted into something else entirely—something more real, more personal, more him.

He now had no regrets about the path he chose.

A slow, confident grin curled across his face. He looked up, and there was a glint in his eye—not of innocence, but of purpose.

“My dream,” he said slowly, voice rising, “is to become the world’s greatest villain!”

The air shifted.

His tone was electric with certainty. Not delusion. Not ego. Conviction.

“I’m not talking about just some common thug, or a background name in a hero’s legacy, or some psychotic, delusional mass murderer,” he continued. “I’m talking about the kind of villain they tell stories about. The kind that rewrites the rules. The kind that doesn’t just oppose hero society—he makes them question it.”

His green eyes burned with ambition. “I want to be the one they never forget. The one who stood tall without a quirk, spat in the face of a system that told him he was worthless—and laughed while doing it.”

Compress stared, visibly taken aback. “Hoo...I now know that I found the right leader to follow,” he said, clapping slowly. "Bravo, Deku!"

Even Excavator gave a small nod, seemingly impressed.

From the other side of the room, a minion dramatically dabbed its eyes with a tissue.

Izuku turned his back to them and walked toward one of his worktables, slipping his gloves back on. “That’s my dream. Not to be admired. But to be remembered.”

And in that moment, there was no doubt—

Deku meant every word of it.

He turned sharply toward Excavator, fire still dancing in his eyes after boldly declaring his dream. “You mentioned a secret base,” he said, his tone low but brimming with intent. “The one with all the equipment and resources to build the vehicles?”

Excavator crossed his arms, nodding behind his helmet. “That’s right. It’s hidden beneath an abandoned construction site in the industrial district—reinforced walls, stealth shielding, fully equipped with heavy fabrication tools...even a damn popcorn machine, like I said.”

Izuku ignored the last part.

Hm. he must really like his popcorn machine. Mr. Compress thought.

“I want to go there,” Izuku said. “Right now. If what you say is true, and we have everything we need—then there’s no time to waste.”

He began pacing, mind already racing with calculations and logistics. “Between the airship, the, uh, 'Grumobile', and planting the detachment charges at the Tokyo Tower base, we’ve got our hands full. I want our operation running like clockwork.”

Mr. Compress leaned against a table, spinning his cane. “Oho, he’s fired up now.”

Izuku clenched a fist, grinning wickedly. “One month. By then…”

He turned toward them, the glow of the base’s monitors flickering across his determined face.

“Tokyo Tower will be mine!”

Chapter Text

It was only the second day at U.A., but Katsuki Bakugou already felt like an outsider.

While his classmates were chatting, laughing, and getting to know one another, Katsuki sat quietly at his desk, arms crossed and eyes fixed forward. He spoke only when called upon in class, answering questions with the bare minimum amount of words. There was no bravado. No cocky declarations. No fiery speeches about becoming the Number One Hero.

The Katsuki Bakugou that once was the arrogant loudmouth who picked fights and called people "extras" was gone. Or at least, buried under the weight of something heavier.

Guilt.

He still didn't quite feel like he deserved to be here, not after everything he'd done. Not after what he'd done to Izuku. The more he thought about it, the more it gnawed at him. He was part of the reason Izuku had become Deku, the most talked-about villain in Japan.

During lunch, as he quietly left the classroom, a few students watched him go.

"Man," Kaminari muttered, tilting his head. "For a guy whose quirk is literally loud explosions, he sure is...quiet."

"I think even Koda talks more than he does," someone else chimed in.

After school, Katsuki scrolled through his phone, checking for updates or messages. His notifications were light. Just one he had from his mentor yesterday:

[Mirko]: How'd your first day go, brat?

[Katsuki]: It was good.

[Mirko]: Nice. Don't be a disappointment.

He rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the heartwarming encouragement." The sarcasm lingered in his mind.

He then switched to the news feed, specifically anything related to Izuku Midoriya. Or rather, Deku. The infamous quirkless villain had been quiet for a few days since his now infamous bank spree.

The headlines were still trending:

"The Despicable Deku Strikes Again: Simultaneous Bank Heists Across Mustafu!"
"Endeavor's Latest Embarrassment: Caught in a Dumpster (Literally)."
"Still No Sightings of Minions—Are They Invisible or Just Lucky?"
"Deku Robbery Spree Leaves Heroes Scrambling. Again."
"How Did None of the Minions Get Caught?"
"#DumpsterFire Trending As Endeavor PR Team Refuses to Comment."

It had been a mass operation. Izuku had sent minion squads across Mustafu, hitting banks and resource depots simultaneously, keeping pro heroes spread thin. Not one of them was captured. Katsuki, along with what he imagined was half the country, wondered if the minions were just that lucky...or if the fault lies in the Pro Heroes recent incompetency. Or if it's just Endeavor.

As Katsuki walked through the hallways of U.A., he couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversation.

"Yo, did you hear what Deku did this time?"
"I saw this clip of him sneaking through a museum like a cartoon villain. Minions tripped the security with a banana peel!"
"He's like, I dunno, some kind of professional villain! A villain pro! A...pro villain? Guys, I think I just came up with a new thing."

Katsuki frowned, slowing his pace.

"He's like this Gentle Criminal fella whom I've been seeing a lot on the internet lately, except Deku is a lot more effective and big, I guess." one student joked. "And don't get me started on the minions. Have you seen that one video where they straight up danced mid-robbery in front of the security cam? Instant classic!"

"Still," another added, more serious, "it's weird, right? How many people are actually starting to like him? Isn't it weird for a villain to get this much traction and even fans?"

A girl shrugged. "He hasn't really killed anyone, has he? It's like he's chaos incarnate. I mean...he is kind of cute. For a villain." She didn't know there was an entire subreddit devoted to calling him a "cutie patootie." But Izuku Midoriya, Deku, had somehow made "quirky and destructive" a marketable aesthetic.

Katsuki didn't exactly know how to feel about all this.

If you had told the old Katsuki Bakugou that a quirkless villain, Izuku of all people, would go toe-to-toe with All Might, become a genuine threat to hero society, and somehow gain more fans than Endeavor, he would've laughed in your face. Then promptly blown it up.

But now? Now he just stood there in the middle of U.A.'s hallway, staring off as the world around him casually gossiped about Deku like he was the latest celebrity drama.

"Did you see the latest gif of him dodging that explosion like it was nothing?"
"I swear the minions are breeding. No way there were that many last week."
"I heard some chick made a plush of him. With his freeze ray and everything."

Deku this. Deku that. The name seemed to now haunt him no matter where he went. It wasn't just news anymore. It was casual conversation. Social media trends. Memes.

Deku—the menace, the meme, the brand.

Katsuki sighed and shoved his phone into his pocket. He didn't know what this world was coming to, but he did know one thing:

He didn't have time to unpack this mess of emotions right now.

Because today after school, he had his first mandatory therapy session with Hound Dog.

Yeah. That was going to be fun.

Meanwhile, across the city in a quiet, dimly lit room tucked away within Gran Torino's modest, if not a bit run-down home, a different kind of conversation was taking place.

"So it's true," Gran Torino said at last, his voice low, graveness layered beneath his usual gruff tone. "He's still alive."

"That appears to be the case," Principal Nezu chimed in, his paws folded neatly over his lap as he sat upright on the couch, posture unusually stiff for someone of his typically playful demeanor.

Gathered in the room were the only people around All Might who knew the truth about One For All: Nezu, Gran Torino, Detective Tsukauchi, and All Might.

His pursuit of Deku had been put on a stop due to a bigger problem that's been revealed: All For One is still alive.

It all began with a break-in at Jakku Hospital.

A seemingly random act of chaos by the then rising menace known as Deku. But beneath the wreckage, hidden deep underground, they found a lab.

A lab filled with horrifying nests of grotesque experimentation. Quirked monsters suspended in tubes and cells. Files detailing genetic manipulation. And one name appeared again and again in the documents: Dr. Kyudai Garaki.

"An APB went out immediately," Tsukauchi said, picking up the thread. "But the man vanished without a trace. Patients, coworkers...all of them swore they knew nothing. He lived a double life for decades, hiding right under our noses."

"And it was Deku who uncovered it," Nezu chimed in. "Though...we still don't know why. We're piecing together the sequence of events, but it's clear something set him off. Something personal."

"I believe," He continued thoughtfully, "he was retrieving something. Whatever it may be, we can simply chalk this up to the scenario of two villains simply having a dispute."

All Might gave a weak, almost sheepish smile as he finally spoke. "He never said exactly what...I forgot to ask." He answered, remembering their encounter at Jakku Hospital all those months ago.

There was a pause. Nezu's ears twitched. Gran Torino squinted at him. Tsukauchi gave him a flat look. "You...forgot to ask?" the detective said dryly.

"I was a little distracted," All Might defended quickly. "It was an emotionally charged encounter!"

Gran Torino narrowed his eyes as he spoke again. "You try to help everyone, I know that," he said, voice softer. "But whenever we talk about this boy, Deku, you get this look. Guilt. Why?"

All Might's eyes fell shut. His voice, when it returned, was quiet.

"Because...I bear responsibility for the creation of Deku."

The room stilled as everyone began to listen to what the Symbol Of Peace had to say. "Naomasa already knows the story, but I think it's time I told the rest of you."

He leaned forward, hands clasped tightly between his knees as everyone began to hear All Might's side of the story. "About a year ago, I saved him from a sludge villain. But then, he grabbed onto my leg when I flew away and clung to me like he'd never let go."

A bittersweet smile tugged at his lips. "We landed on a rooftop. My time ran out and I transformed. Showed him my weakened form. My scar in my gut." He paused. "He asked me if someone like him, a quirkless kid, could ever be a hero. A hero like me."

All Might lowered his head. "I told him no. I thought I was being kind," All Might continued. "Protecting him from a life of hardship. From disappointment. Trust me, it pained him as much as it pained me. But looking back...I think that was when he finally broke."

There was silence as All Might now learned that he's wrong. Proven by both seeing how much chaos Izuku was causing as well as witnessing 'Gru' dominate the U.A entrance exam (still not knowing that they're both the same people).

"I've looked into how the quirkless are treated," he added, voice tinged with sorrow. "Over 20% of the population globally are discriminated against, outcast, even abused. And Midoriya...I think he suffered all of that. At school. At home. And then...I crushed what little hope he had left."

No one said a word, but Gran Torino let out a small "Hm..."

"I haven't stopped kicking myself for it ever since." All Might ended with regret in his voice. Everyone else allowed the story to sink in.

Then, Gran Torino spoke up, sounding a lot more calm than All Might expected. "I'm not going to chastise you for your decision. I get where you're coming from and why you told him no. You did what you thought was right."

There was another beat of silence before Gran Torino then leaned forward, glaring at the Symbol Of Peace. "But Toshi...I oughta kick you in the face for exposing what's practically a state secret. You better thank the stars you didn't tell me first."

All Might startled as he sweat-dropped in fear. "Y-Yes, Sensei."

Tsukauchi let out an exasperated noise as he facepalmed. "I still can't believe you revealed your state-secret weakness to a stranger, a child no less."

"I thought he deserved honesty."

Nezu tilted his head. "And yet, despite all that...it's odd."

Everyone turned to him. "What do you mean?" Tsukauchi asked.

"For all his theatrics, Deku has never exposed your secret. Not your true form. Not your time limit. Not your injuries. Nothing about about you."

All Might blinked. "Now that you mention it..."

"Why do you think that is?" Nezu asked no on in particular as he himself, as well as everyone else, was wondering that too.

It was true. Izuku had not revealed All Might's weakness.

"Maybe..." All Might scratched his cheek sheepishly. "Maybe he forgot?"

"Really, Toshi?" Gran Torino and Tsukauchi both deadpanned at once.

"It's possible! I-I'm just trying to stay positive here!" All Might said. Whatever his reasons may be, he was immensely grateful that Young Midoriya hadn't revealed his secret weakness.

Nonetheless, in All Might's mind, Izuku had done a heroic act that may have saved countless lives by exposing All For One as well as his greatest follower and pawn.

Despite now being a villain, All Might internally commended Young Midoriya for letting them know about this...even if he had done so unintentionally.

Tsukauchi shook his head.

"Whatever the reason," he continued, "Deku's rampage led us to Garaki. That lab. The Nomus. And ultimately, All For One."

"A villain uncovering a greater villain," Nezu mused. "Quite the domino effect, I would say."

"Unintentional or not, he did us all a favor." Gran Torino said, begrudgingly.

All Might nodded slowly. "And...part of me still believes there's good in him."

He looked out the window, eyes tired. "But even if there isn't, I owe it to him to fix this. One way or another."

With that, the conversation would soon come to an end with all of them officially agreeing to take immediate action of taking down All For One.

Capturing Deku would have to wait as he may hold important information about the latest whereabouts of one of All For One's lackeys. Despite all the chaos he's been stirring up in hero society.

Admittedly, it pained All Might not being allowed to be the one to confront Young Midoriya. Not being the one to try and make things right with him. But that would have to wait as he now has an arch-enemy he has to fully get rid of and he couldn't let his emotions and regret get the better of him this time. He'd have to place his faith on the other heroes to take care of Deku.

Especially, Endeavor.

Their relationship had never been warm. All Might had always felt that Enji had something against him, making their relationship as yet...another one-sided rivalry instead of professional comradery as All Might himself held nothing against the flaming hero. Still, for all of his flaws, All Might had never once questioned Endeavor's commitment to heroism. He stopped villains. He saved lives. He fought. Relentlessly. Even if his methods were to cause a little bit of controversy.

Endeavor is one of the most competent heroes he's known...until he comes across Deku, that is.

In which all his composure, training, and rationality Endeavor had just jumps out the window the moment he lays eyes on him.

All Might's lips formed a bewildered smile as he recalled. He couldn't help it as his curiosity got the better of him. He pulled out his phone, fingers scrolling through the trending tags.

#DumpsterFireEndeavor
#EndeavorVsMinions
#ProVillainDeku
#RIPEndeavor'sPRTeam
#NotAgainEndeavor

Image after image. Clip after clip. Headlines like "No. 2 Pro Hero Outsmarted by Quirkless Teen Villain and Cartoon Henchmen" filled his feed like a comedy reel that refused to end. There was even fanart. Fanart! Of Endeavor getting dropkicked by minions. Dressed as bananas.

All Might sweat-dropped.

Even he, a man who barely knew how to use Twitter, couldn't escape the media storm that was Deku. And Endeavor? Endeavor had somehow become the central figure of every "L" the public had decided to hand to Pro Heroes lately.

He had to admit...Izuku had unintentionally pulled off something astounding. Not just evading capture, but reshaping public perception through a combination of strategy, flair, and absolute pettiness.

A quirkless villain turning the No. 2 Pro Hero into a running gag.

It would almost be funny if it wasn't so sad.

All Might tucked the phone away. Plus, he has another major issue at hand...

He has yet to pick a successor for One For All.

Speaking of Deku...

The low hum of the van's engine filled the air as the vehicle cruised down a highway, cloaked in plain sight. To the outside world, it appeared as nothing more than a modest delivery van for some random office supply company. Inside, however, was something else entirely.

Behind the wheel, Izuku kept his eyes sharp on the road ahead, one hand resting on the steering wheel and the other adjusting a holographic GPS interface displaying their route to Excavator's hidden workshop. His expression was focused, sharp, calm.

Mr. Compress lounged in the back seat, legs crossed, casually flipping his marbles between his fingers, while Excavator sat up front, arms crossed and eyes occasionally darting to the teen beside him.

A few minions clambered over one another in the back seats, fighting over snacks and periodically breaking into song. At one point, someone tried to open a soda and ended up spraying it on the ceiling.

Yeah, this was all totally normal.

"So...let me get this straight," Compress finally said, adjusting his mask slightly. "You're telling me that you're the one who drives during all your heists?"

Izuku didn't take his eyes off the road. "Obviously."

"Don't get me wrong, I've seen the news footage," Compress continued, recalling all the times he's seen Deku's getaways on the news, "but to actually sit here, in a moving vehicle, and witness a fourteen-year-old drive this well through the streets of Japan like some criminal Vin Diesel..." He trailed off, gesturing in disbelief. "It's...a bit off-putting."

"Yeah, seriously, kid," Excavator added, staring at him. "How the hell do you even know how to drive?"

There was a brief pause. Izuku slowly turned his head toward Excavator with the flattest, most deadpan stare imaginable.

Then, in the most matter-of-fact voice possible, he said, "Because I'm Deku."

Bewildered silence followed.

"...That's not an answer," Compress said at last.

"It's the answer," Izuku replied coolly, eyes back on the road. I'm just built different.

"...Sure," Excavator finally said with a shrug. "Let's just move past it before I start questioning reality again."

Compress stared at him, then leaned back with a sigh of theatrical resignation. "Yep. That's the energy of someone who's committed a dozen felonies before algebra class."

"So," Izuku continued, turning onto an off-ramp as the skyline of Tokyo came into view, "how much longer till we get to your base, Excavator?"

Excavator checked the coordinates on his own wrist-mounted device and glanced out the tinted window. "Not long now. Once we pass through this business district, we'll head into the industrial zone. My workshop's located under a decommissioned construction site about 10 minutes from here. Totally off the grid. Cloaked from satellites and hero surveillance."

Compress raised a brow behind his mask. "And you're telling me you've just been hiding in a literal hole in the ground?"

"I prefer the term 'urban camouflage,'" Excavator corrected.

"Whatever," Izuku said, gripping the wheel a little tighter. "We're about to reach Tokyo."

At U.A's Counseling Office, the walls were lined with padded panels, a few potted plants sat in the corners, and a faint scent of peppermint hung in the air. The atmosphere was calm—deliberately so. It was meant to be comforting.

Katsuki Bakugou, however, felt anything but.

He sat stiffly on the couch across from the massive, canine-like figure of Hound Dog, U.A.'s guidance counselor. The pro hero's claws tapped idly on his clipboard as his canine muzzle twitched slightly.

"So," Hound Dog growled, not aggressively, just gravelly, like someone trying to sound gentler than they naturally were. "First day went fine?"

Katsuki only gave a slight nod.

Hound Dog didn't seem surprised. "Alright. Let's cut to it, kid. You're not here because you're struggling academically. You're here because your folks asked for it...and the principal agreed."

Katsuki stared at the floor. "I know."

"And you know why you're here?"

"...Because of what I did," Katsuki admitted quietly, fingers tightening into fists.

Hound Dog's ears twitched. He nodded. "You bullied a kid. Badly. Drove him over the edge. And now he's one of the most dangerous villains in Japan."

A tense silence followed. Katsuki didn't argue. He didn't yell. He didn't deny it.

"...Yeah."

Hound Dog leaned forward, claws steepled under his chin. "This isn't about punishment. This is about figuring out what made you that way and making sure it doesn't keep happening."

Katsuki exhaled sharply through his nose, trying to keep his cool. "I know I messed up. Bad. I know I was a piece of crap to him. But I'm trying to fix that. I just...I don't know how."

Hound Dog didn't soften. But he didn't growl, either. He just nodded.

"Then let's start from there." The dog-hero leaned forward. "Tell me, Bakugou-kun. How are you feeling? What are you thinking?"

Katsuki was silent for a moment until he finally spoke.

"...When I saw it on the news," he began, voice low, strained, "Izuku blowing up our school and calling it his 'villain debut'...I didn't get why it hit me so hard."

He took a deep breath. "As long as I've known him, I bullied him. Beat him up. Called him useless—hell, I gave him that damn nickname, 'Deku.' Meant it as an insult. Meanwhile, all he ever tried to do was be a hero...and my friend."

His fists clenched tight.

"But he never stopped trying. Always talked about being a hero like All Might. Kept that stupid notebook of his, drew up gadgets, ideas, support gear. The kind of stuff that...actually impressed me." He scoffed. "Not that I'd ever admit it back then."

Hound Dog said nothing, letting the weight of Katsuki's words carry themselves.

"Maybe that's why I kept beating him down. Because he was talented. Smart. Quirkless, yeah, but determined. And no matter how much I mocked him, hit him, blew him up, he always got back up. Always had that look in his eyes. Like no matter what, he was gonna make it."

Katsuki's voice grew quieter. "And I hated it. I hated that he could believe in himself that much. That kind of hope...it made me feel small. Insecure. Weak."

He looked down at the floor.

"Then, over time, I started noticing something. He was changing. Slower to smile. Quieter. Angrier. More jaded. I could see it. And yet...I just kept pushing him. Like I was trying to break that last bit of hope he had left...and I did."

He closed his eyes. Katsuki remembered his last words he told Izuku before he became a villain. The 'swan dive suggestion' that was probably what sent him over the edge. But he didn't want to say that part out loud. He wasn't ready to face that yet.

Katsuki let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "I got what I wanted. He gave up. Gave up on being a hero. But I don't feel good about it. Not even close."

He looked at Hound Dog now.

A deep breath. Another bitter laugh. "I guess this is what growing a conscience feels like, huh?"

Hound Dog finally leaned forward, clasping his hands together.

"...It's guilt," he said gently, voice calm. "But it's also remorse. That's not a bad thing, Bakugou. It means you're starting to take responsibility, and that's the first step in making things right."

Katsuki stared at the floor. "I can't make it right."

"No, you can't." Hound Dog agreed. "You can't undo what's been done. But you can choose who you are now. And who you become from here on."

Katsuki closed his eyes as he simply said nothing. He just allows those words sink in.

The disguised villain van rumbled to a stop at the location that Excavator guided them to and into a gated alleyway lined with rusted scaffolding and graffiti-tagged barriers, the illusion of urban normalcy began to peel away. The air grew thicker with smog, and the noise of the city faded behind them.

"This is it," Excavator said, tapping a few keys on his device. "Accessing tunnel entry."

A distant whirring and grinding echoed through the air as the cracked pavement ahead of them split open in a clean, mechanical line. A disguised elevator platform rose from beneath the concrete, dust and steam hissing out from its edges.

Izuku parked the van directly on it.

"I have to admit, this is way more dramatic than I expected," Compress mused, resting his elbow out the window. "I like it."

Izuku glanced at him. "Please don't encourage him."

With a hiss of hydraulics, the platform descended beneath the surface, lowering them into a dimly lit tunnel lined with mechanical cranes, ventilation ducts, and reinforced blast-proof walls. The deeper they went, the more the smell of oil and hot metal filled the air.

And then the chamber opened.

The elevator brought them into a sprawling underground workshop that could've easily doubled as a villain's lair or the start of a mad scientist's utopia. Half-assembled mechs lined one wall. Welding sparks flew in the far back where automated arms labored away. Monitors flickered with schematics, power levels, and blueprints. A long conveyor belt ran across the ceiling like a metal spine.

And, inexplicably, there was a large popcorn machine that Excavator consistently mentions every time he talks about his base...as well as a concerning large amount of closets.

Excavator said smugly as he stepped out and spread his arms wide. "Gentlemen, welcome to The Pit!"

"...That's what you call this place?" Izuku asked with a flat look.

"What? It's poetic. Deep. Atmospheric."

"It's a giant hole with lights."

"Exactly!" Excavator grinned.

The minions began pouring out of the back of the van, chattering and 'oohing' at the machinery like tourists. One of them immediately pressed every button on a control panel, resulting in the overhead crane spinning wildly and nearly dropping a shipping container. Izuku had to physically pry him off the controls.

"I am begging you," he hissed through clenched teeth, "do not touch anything that looks even remotely important."

"SI!" the minion saluted, seemingly understanding nothing.

Meanwhile, Compress stepped out and looked around appreciatively. "I must say...this is quite the setup. Stylish in a 'dangerous and wildly unregulated' sort of way."

Izuku nodded slowly, still surveying the base. "It'll do."

Excavator walked toward one of the central workstations, tapping away at a nearby console. "This place has everything we need to start construction. Full fabrication systems, a forge, high-frequency welders, and most importantly—" He turned, holding up the blueprints the minions had handed him earlier. "—your schematics."

Izuku's eyes lit up. He stepped forward, inspecting the blueprints: the 'Grumobile' and the 'Gru Airship'. Sleek, unconventional, and technologically insane. His designs, or rather, his minions' previous master's design, now on the verge of being reborn.

"I hope you weren't bluffing about building these in a month," Izuku said.

"I never bluff about machines," Excavator smirked. "With the help of your minions, you'll have your rides in thirty days. Maybe less."

Izuku smirked. "Then Phase 1 is a go."

He turned to the team. "Let's get to work!"

Shigaraki sat hunched over the counter of his bar, fingers twitching against a glass of water he hadn't touched. The television in front of him displayed the latest news update.

An endless loop of security footage from the bank robberies, fuzzy camera angles of yellow creatures wreaking havoc, and, of course, the grinning masked face of Japan's most notorious rising villain.

Deku.

Every channel. Every headline. Every conversation in the damn country.

"...The coordinated robberies took place across multiple districts simultaneously, baffling authorities and heroes alike. Not a single perpetrator was caught. Once again, the infamous villain 'Deku' eludes capture, raising questions about whether this so-called 'pro-villain' is more than just a juvenile anarchist..."

Crack.

The glass in Shigaraki's hand split into jagged shards, water spilling down his trembling palm.

"That damn Deku..." he snarled, eyes flaring with barely contained rage. "He's everywhere. Like some cartoon mascot people can't stop talking about."

He whipped around and glared at the hulking Nomu standing idle against the wall—silent, monstrous, and utterly useless now.

All because of him!

Because of that damn Deku.

His interference at Jakku Hospital had exposed everything! The Nomu program. Dr. Garaki, who is now relaxing at the bar. Their lab. Their plans. His master and the Doctor had spent years building that infrastructure, and Deku had unraveled it in a single reckless night just to recover one of his idiotic yellow minions!

What's worse? Deku hadn't even known what he'd destroyed! It was all unintentional. Fucking collateral damage.

"That damn quirkless brat threw off everything!" Shigaraki hissed, his nails digging furrows into the bar top. Because of Deku's meddling, he had thrown a wrench in Shigaraki's plan of attacking the U.A students at the USJ.

He slammed his fist down.

"I was supposed to kill All Might at the USJ. And now my trump card has to just stand there like a damn glorified statue!"

Kurogiri, ever the composed attendant, appeared behind the counter and gently removed the shattered glass from his master's hand with a calm sigh. "Tomura Shigaraki...please. You must not allow him to cloud your judgment."

Shigaraki bristled but didn't pull away.

Then the TV crackled.

Static twisted the broadcast into darkness, and a familiar distorted voice filled the bar through the speakers.

"Tomura..."

The sound of his master, All For One's voice immediately silenced the room. Shigaraki straightened.

"This is an unfortunate setback, yes. But it is only that. A setback. The path remains the same. We simply walk it differently now."

Shigaraki clenched his jaw. "Everything was going according to plan. Then this...kid shows up and ruins it all just by existing."

"A worthy adversary, it seems," All For One mused. "But remember, even the greatest disruptions can be molded into opportunity. Do not be rattled. You are not a child throwing tantrums anymore."

Eventually, Shigaraki exhaled deeply as he stopped scratching his neck in anger. He sat back, brushing strands of unruly hair from his face.

"...Fine," he muttered. " But we'll move forward with our attack on the USJ. We just can't use our Nomu now." Shigaraki held his chin contemplatively. He now had to come up with a plan to initiate a successful attack on the USJ. Just without the Nomu.

He cracked his neck and stared at the screen as Deku's masked image lingered there, surrounded by fan edits and speculative headlines. He glared daggers at the green-haired boy on the screen.

"This isn't over. He got in our way..."

"...but now I'm going to get in his."

The television flickered once more as All For One's voice echoed with calm finality:

"Take this as a lesson, Tomura. Always prepare for the unexpected. Always have a backup plan."

All Might sat slouched on the edge of his modest apartment's bed. His eyes were fixed ahead, but they weren't seeing the room. His mind was elsewhere.

So much had happened...and so fast.

"He's still alive..." Toshinori murmured aloud, his voice hoarse, hollow and full of contempt. He still couldn't quite wrap his head around it.

All For One.

His nemesis. The man who murdered Nana Shimura, his beloved master. The tyrant who had ruled the shadows of society with theft, cruelty, and overwhelming power. Toshinori had believed, needed to believe, that he had ended him in that final battle.

But no. Like a curse or annoying cockroach, All For One was back.

All Might also has another problem. There was Izuku Midoriya. Deku.

The one he told that he couldn't be a hero without a quirk. The one he left broken on a rooftop with nothing but crushed dreams and rejection. And now...that same boy had become Japan's most notorious rising villain.

He'd blown up his own middle school. He'd humiliated Endeavor. Outwitted heroes. Gained a cult-like following. All without a quirk. Armed with nothing but an arsenal of technology and vehicles he got from god knows where, a legion of absurdly loyal and ridiculous yellow minions, and a bottomless well of spite to top it all of.

And Toshinori...had helped create him. And after researching how the quirkless are treated nowadays, he hadn't stopped kicking himself for his actions. He truly had forgotten where he came from.

But that's not all. Now, he had another major problem he hadn't yet solved.

He hadn't chosen a successor for One For All.

He was running out of time. His injuries had worsened since his clash with Deku at Jakku Hospital, especially after the spike of energy that tore into his stomach during their fight. His muscle form's duration was now down to two and a half hours, and even that felt unstable on some days.

His job at U.A. was supposed to give him clarity. It was supposed to help him find someone worthy. Someone with the right heart.

But as of now...no one stood out. Not yet, at least. He hoped someone would eventually stand out soon. But only time will tell. Time which is something he doesn't have much of.

Toshinori rubbed his temples, stress lines deepening on his sunken face.

All For One is alive.
Deku is a national threat.
And I have no successor.

Yeah, it's clearly not the best day at the office for the Symbol Of Peace.

All Might sighed as he slumped on his bed. There was one person who wasn't included in the meeting earlier today.

Him and Mirai's relationship had...not been the best, really. Ever since their big argument after his fight with All For One, they had not talked to each other since.

And the moments they do talk only lead to argument, especially in regard of who should be One For All's successor. As of recently though, Mirai had been forcing his own student, particularly this one named Mirio Togata, to attain One For All.

All without considering both All Might's or even Togata's perspective, opinion, feelings and choice in the manner by the looks of it.

All Might still wasn't going to give Togata One For All if the boy chooses that he wasn't up for it. But...thinking about it, All Might was running out of time and options.

So, he pulled up his phone and opened up Mirai Sasaki's contacts, but he didn't type in anything as he hesitated. They hadn't talked in four almost five long years. Starting up a conversation with someone you haven't talked to for that long due to a mass dispute...is not easy.

Nonetheless, despite their strained relationship, Mirai needed to hear this. He was his former sidekick, after all. And All Might needed as much as he can get. Besides, he was going to at least hear him out about Togata.

So, All Might sent a short text:

"Mirai. Let's talk."

The door clicked softly behind him as Katsuki stepped out of the office, the fluorescent lights of the U.A. hallway suddenly feeling just a bit too bright.

His shoulders were stiff. His hands stayed shoved deep into his pockets. And his expression was blank.

But something felt...lighter.

His first therapy session with Hound Dog hadn't been easy. It rarely ever is for anyone's first time. He hated how awkward it had been. How quiet he sounded. How Hound Dog didn't flinch, didn't interrupt, didn't scold, just-listened. Really listened.

He still felt as if he didn't quite deserve to be at U.A, but at least now he felt more...comfortable. I guess saying shit off your chest really does help, he thought. However, he still can't help but remember that guy, Gru, who earned the top marks and broken all U.A's previous records at the Entrance Exam.And he did all that quirkless, proving Katsuki wrong about everything.

He still couldn't quite believe he actually rejected U.A. Katsuki remembered his encounter with the white-haired boy and couldn't but feel a sense of familiarity.

I could swear he was glaring at me, he tried to recall but quickly brushed it off. Nah. Just my damn imagination. Too much crap goin' on lately...

As he made his way outside, Katsuki pulled out his phone, finding another message from his mother.

[Mitsuki]: So, how'd therapy go? Did you cry yet? 😈

Katsuki rolled his eyes. Typical.

[Katsuki]: No.

[Mitsuki]:  C'mon. Lighten up. I'm just messing with you.  You actually went, so that's a win in my book.

He didn't respond right away. Instead, he stared at the screen for a while, then tucked the phone away.

It wasn't much. A few words. A few memories. One exhausting therapy session.

But it was something.

Maybe even a start.

His first step into becoming a better version of himself.

Two weeks later.

The rhythmic clank of hammers, the hiss of welding torches, and the constant babble of minions filled the cavernous workshop hidden beneath the industrial ruins of Tokyo’s construction district.

And over it all, blaring through the rusted speakers overhead, was the opening beat of a song that captured the exact energy Izuku felt surging through his bones.

Look...If you had...one shot...or one opportunity...to seize everything you ever wanted...one moment...would you capture it? Or just let it slip? Yo.

His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy, there's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti. He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready to drops bombs, but he keeps on forgetting what he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud, he opens his mouth but the words won't come out, he's chokin, how? Everybody's jokin now! The clock's run out, time's up, over - BLAOW!

Izuku stood at the helm of it all. Goggles on, jacket rolled up to his sleeves, grease smeared across his cheek. Behind him, a whirlwind of motion: minions in hardhats clambering up scaffolding, welding steel, tripping over extension cords, and somehow still making it work.

Excavator barked out instructions from one corner, blueprint in one hand and welding torch in the other. Compress’s occasional “creative flair,” and the relentless enthusiasm of a whole squadron of minions, the airship was taking shape.

A very explosive shape.

Snap back to reality, OHH! there goes gravity- OHH! there goes Rabbit, he choked! He's so mad, but he won't give up that easy nope, he won't have it he knows, his whole back's to these ropes. It don't matter, he's dope-

As the music played in the background, several explosions occurred.

"OTTOOO, NO! NOT THE RED BUTTON!" Izuku shouted from above as a nearby minion dove dramatically toward a suspiciously shiny panel, triggering a loud BOOM in the distance.

Smoke billowed from one of the hangar corners. A gaggle of minions coughed and laughed as one was launched into a stack of tires.

"AHHHH!" Screamed the flying minion.

Izuku sighed, rubbing his temple as Excavator jogged over, covered in soot and holding what used to be a coffee mug.

"That’s the third internal detonation today,” the older villain muttered.

“And it’s not even noon,” Izuku added flatly.

Excavator, now half-covered in soot, exasperatedly wiped a smudge from his visor. “Seriously, kid. You got the patience of a saint to be dealing with these minions.”

Izuku deadpanned, “No. I’ve just been numb since the third industrial fire.”

He pointed to a sign near the minion locker room: "Days Since Last Catastrophic Accident: 0"

Excavator groaned. “I still don’t understand how any of them are alive.”

“Neither do I. At this point, I’m pretty sure physics just gave up.”

As if to prove his point, a crash sounded from the scaffolding overhead followed by a "GERONOMO!" and what could only be described as the sound of a microwave fighting for its life...somehow.

You better - lose yourself in the music, the moment, you own it, you better never let it go! (go!)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow! This opportunity comes once in a lifetime
You better - lose yourself in the music, the moment, you own it, you better never let it go! (go!)
You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow! This opportunity comes once in a lifetime!
You better...

Mr. Compress, seated nearby on an overturned toolbox and sipping tea like a noble at a crime scene, chuckled. “You know,” he mused, “it’s like working with sentient slapstick.”

Izuku sighed, shook his head, and pointed at a nearby group. “You three! Get back to tightening the support brackets. And for the last time—no juggling the rivet guns!”

"Si! Big boss!" They saluted. One of them accidentally fired a rivet into the ceiling. It ricocheted harmlessly off a beam, and somehow, a disco ball dropped from above.

Izuku stared at the spinning ball of glitter for a full five seconds.

“…No one even installed that.”

He turned back to Excavator with an exhausted look. “Patience isn’t the word. Survival instinct, maybe.”

As if on cue, his phone vibrated in his pocket with a soft ding. Izuku pulled it out, thumbed the screen, and arched a brow.

An email. From Mr. Perkins.

Subject: “Let’s Talk, Mr. Deku.”

Message:
"Please visit my office at your earliest convenience. I’d like to discuss a matter that may interest you."
– Mr. Perkins
Senior Executive, The Bank of Evil™

Izuku hummed in amusement. It had been a while since he went to the Bank Of Evil. He wondered what Mr. Perkins wanted to talk to him about. He wondered what Mr. Perkins wanted now. Could be another business pitch. Could be another lecture on 'responsible villainy' and ‘quarterly destruction quotas.’

Could be fun.

Now, Izuku could have easily just asked the Bank Of Evil to just lend him another stock airship.

But that was not only him over-relying on the resources of the Bank, but it was just plain boring. Just like their ships and vehicles that had no soul or identity. Merely corporate productions. 

And Izuku didn't like that. He wasn't like any other villain, he was Deku.

So, Izuku wanted to build his own like he is now. It may take a lot of effort, but that's not the point. Like how he robbed all those banks when he didn't even need this amount of money. Was it overkill? Sure. Took a lot more effort than needed? Maybe. But Izuku never did things halfway.

It's not about the effort, it's about the principle.

...And, okay, maybe the sheer, glorious thrill of it.

Anyways, Izuku put his phone back in his pocket and went to refreshen up, dressing himself more appropriately. He turned on his heel and stretched his arms over his head. “I’m heading out. Bank meeting.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get lost,” Excavator grunted, half-buried in a rocket engine, grease smudged across his helmet.

Mr. Compress gave a dramatic bow from atop a crate. “Tell them to wire us a donation!”

Izuku ignored him.

Izuku pointed toward two of his most competent minions thus far he found standing by a half-welded fuel tank. "Mel, Kevin. Make sure no other minions cause another major ruckus. No explosions. No roller-skating in the ventilation shafts. No reinventing the popcorn machine. Got it?"

The two minions gave their boss a cheery and confident salute. "Si, Deku!" They both said simultaneously.

With that, Izuku was off to his meeting.

Katsuki exited the therapy room with a slow, measured step, the door clicking softly behind him. Another session with Hound Dog. Another hour of digging through his own thoughts like shrapnel embedded in old scars. He wasn’t sure if he felt better, but at least it didn’t feel as foreign now.

As he walked down the hallway, the afternoon sun casting long beams of light through the windows, he was joined by Kirishima, who greeted him with his usual easy grin.

“Yo, Bakugou! Took you long enough. What were you doing? Talking with Aizawa-sensei again?”

Katsuki grunted. “Homework.”

That was the excuse he’d settled on. It was easier than explaining he spent the last hour unpacking guilt to a dog-man psychologist.

“Must’ve been one hell of a math problem,” Kaminari joked, falling into step beside him. Mina and Sero trailed just behind, chatting and teasing each other with the kind of camaraderie that was beginning to grow familiar.

Bakugou was still quiet. Still not used to walking in a group. But he didn’t mind their company as much anymore. They were loud, sure, but genuine. It was something he hadn’t been around in a long time.

That brief moment of peace shattered, literally, when an explosion rocked the hallway.

BOOM!

The entire group jumped. Smoke billowed out from a now-blasted metal door ahead, U.A.'s Development Studio. Sparks crackled, and a scorched floor tile flipped into the air, clattering near Kaminari’s feet.

“What the hell?!” Mina yelped.

Out of the smoke staggered a girl in saggy black pants and a soot-covered tank top, her pink hair sticking out from under scorched mechanic goggles. Her arms and face were peppered with light burn marks, but she moved as if none of it registered.

“Whew!” she exclaimed, dusting herself off with a bright grin. “That was way too much powder in the micro-booster! Note to self: reduce propulsion ratio by 42%.”

Behind her, the irate bellow of Power Loader erupted from the haze.

“HATSUME! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TO STOP MESSING WITH THE SMALL FUEL CANISTERS?!”

The girl, now clearly identified as Mei Hatsume, turned and gave an innocent shrug. “You said they were unstable, not unusable, sensei! I was testing boundaries! For science!”

Sero leaned toward Kaminari. “Is that the Support Course…?”

Kirishima blinked. “Yeah, I think so. That’s Mei Hatsume. I heard she blows up the lab at least once every two or three days...and we've only been here for at least two weeks.”

“Explains the fireproof walls,” Mina muttered.

Mei, seemingly unfazed by the wreckage behind her, casually dusted soot off her pants and adjusted her goggles with a satisfied grin. Without acknowledging the group still standing in stunned silence down the hall, she turned on her heel and strolled right back into the development studio as if nothing had happened.

The heavy, fireproof door slowly creaked shut behind her with an ominous metallic clank.

There was a long pause.

“…Did she just walk back in like that was normal?” Kaminari whispered.

“She did,” Mina confirmed, blinking.

“Y’know what?” Sero muttered, already turning around. “We should go another way.”

No one disagreed. As a unit, the group slowly backed away from the development studio and quietly turned down an alternate hallway toward the exit, careful not to make any sudden noises that might draw the attention of the chaos gremlin behind the blast-proof door. They did not want to get involved in whatever that was.

Back inside the Development Studio, the air was thick with the scent of scorched metal, oil, and ozone. Tools clattered and machines hummed as Power Loader, helmet slightly askew and face twitching with exasperation, stood in front of a whiteboard absolutely covered in scrawlings and blueprints that used to be neatly arranged.

Now they were peppered with soot and smudges.

“Hatsume!” he barked for the third time in under two minutes. “You can’t just ignore lab safety protocols because you ‘felt inspired!’ This is still a school! You’ve been here two weeks and I’m already losing track of how many fires I’ve had to put out!”

Mei, hunched over her workbench, tightened a bolt on what looked like a hovering unicycle with a flamethrower attachment. “You say that like it’s a bad thing, Sensei,” she said cheerily.

“I say it like I don’t want to die from a support course accident before finals,” he snapped.

Still, there was no malice in his tone. Power Loader was clearly exhausted, borderline traumatized, but deep down, he knew talent when he saw it.

And Mei Hatsume, for all her wild ideas and tendency to use unstable parts she absolutely should not have access to, was one of the most promising support students he’d ever had.

A menace, yes. A health hazard, definitely.

But talented? Unquestionably.

Much like another kid her age who's been the talk of the town, recently...

With a long, suffering sigh, Power Loader rubbed his temples. “Just...please. No more combustibles today.”

“No promises!” Mei sang out, already welding something that hissed ominously with steam.

Sparks flew again as Mei tightened another screw on her newest "baby," a spidery drone with too many arms and exactly zero safety features.

"I'm telling you, Sensei!" Mei shouted over the sizzling whir of her welding torch, her eyes glowing with excitement. "One day, Hatsume Corps will revolutionize the support industry! Tech like no one's ever seen before! I'll make sure the next generation of heroes have gear that rivals even the stuff he has!"

Power Loader blinked, already feeling the headache coming on. "He?"

Mei beamed and gestured wildly with her wrench like she was revealing some divine truth. “Deku, of course! That guy’s tech? Genius! I’ve been tracking some of the footage, and wow! He’s using gear I can’t even reverse-engineer yet! That freeze ray? Chef’s kiss! And his drones! His minions! His gadgets! Ugh! It’s like a support course dream!”

Power Loader stared.

"Mei," he began, pinching the bridge of his nose. "For the hundredth time...Deku is a villain."

Mei waved him off with the same enthusiasm one might dismiss a weather report. “Details, details! Sure, maybe he breaks a few laws, but from an engineering standpoint? The guy’s a genius! Honestly, I hope I meet him one day. Imagine what we could build together!”

Power Loader dropped his marker.

He wasn’t sure what was worse. The fact that his most talented student was openly fan-girling over Japan’s most wanted quirkless menace, or the fact that she seemed genuinely unaware he was, in fact, a villain.

“How do you not know this?” he asked, baffled. “He’s on every wanted list. We had a whole seminar about this!”

Mei paused. “…We did?”

Power Loader looked at the burnt edges of her outfit. Right. Of course she didn’t remember. She was probably building a grappling shoe or some kind of rocket hat in the back of the room.

“I swear,” he muttered. “She’s gonna be the death of me.”

But even so, as he watched her dive back into her work with manic enthusiasm, muttering about drones, weaponized magnets, and something she called the “gyro-tunnel baby 3.0”.

He couldn’t help but sigh in reluctant admiration. “…Well. At least she’s aiming high.”

Back with the group, the usual lively chatter continued as Bakugou, Kirishima, Mina, and Sero strolled down the street. Kaminari, walking just behind them, suddenly felt his phone buzz. He checked the message and blinked.

“Oh! Uh, sorry, guys! I gotta go,” he said, trying to play it cool. “Forgot I…left the stove on. In my home. Yeah.”

Sero raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even cook.”

Kaminari gave an awkward finger gun before darting off in the opposite direction. “Details! See ya!”

They all watched him go.

“…Weird guy,” Mina muttered with a grin.

Takoba Beach – Late Afternoon

The waves lapped gently against the now-pristine shoreline, the sun beginning its descent behind a pink-orange sky. The wind rolled softly through the empty beach, now clean, open, and peaceful. No trace of the mountains of garbage that once buried it.

Toshinori Yagi stood in his skeletal form, hands resting in his pockets, eyes fixed on the horizon. He had wondered who had cleaned it for a moment as he had intended to use this once garbage ridden beach as a training regime for his successor, but that didn't matter now. He had finally chosen his successor. Someone against Mirai's wishes. He gave him hell for it, but it didn't matter now.

Behind him, footsteps crunched softly through the sand.

All Might turned slightly, smiling knowingly. “Ah. I see your training with One For All is progressing well?”

The figure stepped into view. A boy with unruly yellow hair, a sharp lightning bolt dyed into his fringe. He looked up with a sheepish grin, slightly out of breath from the jog.

“…Kaminari-kun?” All Might greeted, warmth in his voice.

Denki Kaminari nodded.

“Yeah,” he said, a spark dancing across his fingers. “I’ve been practicing all morning!”

u/BananaWaddledee
Deku the type of villain to gleefully list his flaws in song while his minions are his backup singers.
🧠Mischievous Mastermind

Yes, ending chapters with these memes is going to be a thing from now on.

Chapter Text

Kaminari stood on the sand, panting, sweat trickling down his brow. His hands sparked faintly, crackling with unstable energy as he tried to contain it. All Might stood a few paces away in his skeleton form, arms crossed and posture calm despite the intensity in his gaze.

"Again," All Might said.

Kaminari grit his teeth and focused, clenching his fists as One For All surged through his veins—wild, heavy, and barely controlled. Electricity whipped through his limbs as he tried to contain the storm building within.

"I-It's like trying to hold a lightning bolt inside your ribcage!" Kaminari exclaimed, gritting his teeth.

All Might cracked a faint smile. "Good. That means you're feeling the power. But power means nothing if you let it run wild. You must control it. Shape it. This is your power now. Make it listen to you."

"Easier said than done...!" Kaminari took a deep breath and tried again. He was still getting used to One For All, still trying to grasp the full weight of it.

As he pushed himself harder, All Might's eyes softened. He remembered his argument with Mirai a few days ago. It wasn't exactly one would call...'civil'.

Flashback.

Mirai Sasaki sat behind his desk, his stern gaze fixed on his former mentor. Beside him stood Mirio Togata, nervous but composed.

"You're making a mistake, Toshinori."

All Might's jaw tensed. "And you're making a decision without Mirio's consent."

"I raised him for this," Nighteye snapped. "He's ideal. Optimistic, strong, kind, and selfless. He fits the role of the Symbol of Peace. He embodies it!"

All Might glanced at Mirio, who looked increasingly uncomfortable. "Mirio is a bright kid. But this," All Might gestured, "isn't a job you just assign someone into like a promotion. This is life and death. A burden. A responsibility" His voice grew heavier. "It's not something you force."

"I'm not forcing—"

"Yes, you are!" All Might shouted, eyes blazing. "You didn't even ask him if he wanted it! You didn't even consider Young Togata's own choice and feelings of the matter!"

Nighteye froze. The room went cold.

Mirio looked down, finally speaking. "I...I didn't want to say anything, but...I don't think I'm the right person for it. I want to be a hero, but this...this isn't the way I imagined it."

Nighteye's face fell, confusion and frustration etched into his expression.

"I'm sorry," Mirio added softly.

All Might exhaled, voice softer now. "I'm not here to undermine you, Mirai. I came because I needed your input. But you're so set on this ideal, you stopped listening."

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Then Nighteye eventually just left, leaving a tense and awkward atmosphere between All Might and Togata whom the latter apologized to for having him being dragged into this drama.

Flashback end.

It wasn't the best reunion, but at least they talked.

"ALL MIGHT!"

The shout snapped him out of his thoughts. Kaminari was glowing faintly, arcs of electricity coursing around him. It was chaotic and unstable, but he was standing.

"I...I think I'm getting it!"

All Might smiled warmly, though there was a flicker of pain in his eyes.

"Good," he said. "That's it, Kaminari-kun. You've taken your first step."

As Kaminari beamed with pride, All Might quietly thought to himself:

Mirai...I hope you'll see it too, someday. That the future isn't just about perfection. Sometimes, the right choice is the unexpected one.

All Might shook his head as he did not want to dwell on whatever happened between him and his former sidekick now. He now had a successor to mentor.

It had only been a few weeks at U.A and from what he's noticed beforehand, Kaminari was generally a laid-back yet energetic student. Social and friendly with others, while also being quite flirtatious, or at least, attempted flirting with the women of the classroom. Blunt, and sometimes reckless as he's noticed during hero training classes, but always well-meaning.

'He's a little confused, but he's got the spirit.' Is what All Might would describe the boy before he was chosen.

Academically, he wasn't the brightest, if All Might had to be frank. Nor was he the best in regard of being emotionally intelligent.

Actually, scratch that, the boy is intelligent. And he was lot more...creative and cunning than All Might had expected. Which is a factor as to why he had chosen the boy...

Izuku was riding through alleyways as to be out of the public eye as much as possible. He was riding another one of his vehicles. This time, it was actually a gift from Excavator himself, something Izuku was surprised and grateful for. Izuku didn't quite know what to call it, but it was a small scooter that could also transform into some sort of aircraft.

Right now, he was on his way to a secret entrance of the Bank Of Evil. Apparently, Mr. Perkins wanted to meet with him.

Eventually, he arrived and he waited on a long, luxurious couch, legs crossed, and alone. He felt both confused and a little excited. He's always liked his visits to this place. They accepted him, after all.

Eventually, a speaker crackled to life overhead.

"Mr. Deku. Mr. Perkins will see you now."

Izuku popped to his feet and straightened out his sleeves, and headed towards the office. He stepped into the vast, dimly lit office. At the far end, Mr. Perkins sat behind a long obsidian desk, his hands steepled in front of him like a supervillain CEO—which, to be fair, he was.

The moment Izuku stepped in, his cocky grin cracked.

"Mr. Perkins," he greeted, tilting his head. "I thought my progress report wasn't due until next week."

Perkins leaned back in his leather chair, smirking just slightly.

"I moved it up. Call it a...preliminary evaluation. Sit."

Izuku sat, his posture relaxed but not lazy. "Well...if you insist." He shrugged as he leaned back in the chair. "Let's see...I've upgraded my lab, successfully built two new prototype gadgets, robbed thirteen banks in a day—none of them caught, by the way—and I've also started working on a custom airship for my next big project. Oh, and I've also managed to gain a few allies."

Now that caught the attention of Mr. Perkins. He raised an amused and curious brow. "You? Gaining allies? You, who has built an underground reputation for being dangerously self-reliant and chronically untrusting? That's new."

Izuku gave a lopsided grin. "Guess I'm just...selective."

Perkins adjusted himself. "Anyways, tell me, Deku. Has anything changed? About you since you began this...new chapter in your life? You're making quite the name for yourself these days."

Izuku held his chin in contemplation as he gazed slightly down at the pitch black office floor.

He answered slowly, thoughtfully. "I think about that sometimes. Watching myself on the news...hearing what people say. Half the city thinks I'm the devil or a nuisance. The other half thinks I'm a meme and an icon." He chuckled dryly. "Ironic, right?"

He leaned forward now, voice growing more intense.

"But here's the thing. The more I see of today's villains, the more I realize I don't want to be them. Most of them are either meatheads or maniacs. Burn, crush, kill, scream, repeat. No flair. No identity. No charm. No...class. Just death and destruction for its own sake. It's so..." He scoffed, eyes narrowing.

"...tactless. Lowkey? Kinda lame." He said. "I just wish more villains were less psycho or stupid evil, and more focused ambition.

"I see." Perkins allowed himself a small, intrigued smile. "So what do you want to be, Deku?"

Izuku's expression hardened, that glint of controlled madness and brilliance lighting his eyes.

He smiled. "Like I said, I want to leave my mark on this world. I want to be remembered. Not just another name on a list. Not another body in a body count. Personally, I don't give a damn about hero society. I'm not doing this to 'get back' at it or for revenge, even if it does feel nice. I just want to be the world's greatest villain! I'm here for the love of the game!"

Perkins had an almost invisible smile, feeling proud of Deku's conviction.

They continued to talk for a while with Perkins asking questions, Izuku responding with vague but confidently delivered answers. The topics ranged from his recent escapades to the kind of image he wanted to build, what legacy he hoped to leave behind, and what the world would look like after someone like Deku carved his initials into it.

But something was...off.

At first, it was subtle. Maybe a twitch in Perkins' eye when Izuku mentioned his airship. Or the slight delay before he responded when Izuku downplayed his next big move. Then there was the shift in tone—still professional, but a little too interested in the finer details. The phrasing of his questions felt... rehearsed. Almost like they weren't his own.

Most people wouldn't have noticed. But Izuku? He noticed everything.

He had to.

He leaned back a little in his chair, gaze sharpening behind a cool exterior as Perkins posed another oddly specific question.

"So, let's say, hypothetically, you were planning a large-scale act of symbolic villainy... something to shake society. What would it look like? What would be your statement?"

That one made Izuku pause longer than usual.

He tilted his head, pretending to ponder. "Hypothetically?"

Perkins smiled with practiced charm. "Of course."

Izuku smiled back, but it didn't reach his eyes this time. "Let's just say...when it happens, the whole world will know. But I like my surprises."

He offered nothing more.

Perkins chuckled, but Izuku caught the subtle clench in the man's jaw. A bit too tight. His fingers tapped too rhythmically against the wood of the desk, as if stalling.

Something was wrong. Not just with Perkins' questions, but with his demeanor—this wasn't the usual dynamic they shared. The Bank of Evil, for all its underhandedness, prided itself on client confidentiality. But today...today felt like he was being watched.

Studied.

Monitored.

Izuku's instincts were screaming at him.

He kept his smile fixed, but his thoughts ran wild. Was Perkins under pressure? Being coerced? Could someone be listening in? Watching? He didn't like this. Not one bit.

He wanted to keep his plans for his grand Tokyo Tower heist a secret and only letting those who are behind it know about it. He wanted people to be in shock and awe. He liked being dramatic.

He was initially going to tell Perkins about his future plan, but now...

Izuku sighed internally. Betrayal wasn't unusual in his line of work. He remembered all too well the other times this had happened before, when clients he'd trusted tried to play him. When his falling out with Giran. When other "partners" stabbed him in the back once they realized how dangerous his mind truly was or when neither had any use of each other anymore once a deal was over. Admittedly, Izuku had done some backstabbing himself as well in order to survive.

But this was different.

This was Perkins. The Bank.

The one place he thought was untouchable. The one place that didn't care if he had a Quirk or not. That judged only results and professionalism. The place that took him seriously when no one else did.

If this place was starting to treat him like a liability instead of an asset...

It hurt more than it should have.

He quickly masked the pang of disappointment and leaned forward slightly, giving a confident smirk.

"Well, Mr. Perkins," he said casually, "this has been...enlightening. I'm always happy to talk shop, but I really do have an airship to finish building."

Perkins gave a nod, his expression hard to read. "Of course. I appreciate your time."

Izuku stood, his movements calm, calculated.

"Always a pleasure."

But as he turned to leave, his smile vanished.

If this was a test, he thought, they won't catch me slipping.

The moment Izuku exited the room, the sleek wall behind Mr. Perkins flickered to life. A slim monitor illuminated, displaying a pulsing soundwave with no image, just the cold rhythm of incoming audio.

Then came the voice. Low. Composed. Menacing.

"How disappointing."

The soundwave spiked slightly with the words.

"It seems the rumors were true. The boy is just as distrustful as they say. Even toward those who welcomed him with open arms."

Mr. Perkins didn't flinch. He turned his head slightly toward the screen, eyes narrowing.

"I'm aware I owe more debts than I can count, All For One," he said, voice clipped and restrained. "But did you really have to force my hand and make me prod one of the most promising minds we've seen since Gru?"

There was a pause. Then the voice returned, this time laced with disdain.

"That is exactly why I did it." A subtle shift in tone hinted at tightly controlled frustration. "That boy has become an unforeseen thorn in my side. Do you forget? It was his recklessness that led to the exposure of my Nomu facility. A facility that took years to perfect."

Mr. Perkins looked down, his jaw tightening.

"You forget, Mr. Perkins," All For One continued, "that I am the reason that you and your business even survived the rise of Quirks and beyond. Without me, the Bank of Evil would've crumbled with the rest of the old world years ago. And you, dead and forgotten in the dirt."

Silence settled in for a beat.

Then, All For One's voice resumed, cooler now and measured.

"Still...this was not without value. The boy is more guarded than I expected, but he spoke of allies. Connections. Curious." A dark curiosity laced the villain's words. "Perhaps I should see just how far that loyalty extends when pressure is properly applied."

Mr. Perkins remained motionless, stoic beneath the weight of unspoken threats.

"Do not fail me, Perkins," All For One added, his voice quieter now, but no less dangerous. "And do not test me again. I underestimated your cunning once before. I will make sure that does not happen again."

The screen went black with a sharp click, leaving the room in still, oppressive silence.

Mr. Perkins exhaled through his nose, steadying himself. Despite the chill running down his spine, his expression was unreadable.

Only one thought remained in his mind now:

He needed to warn Deku...but not yet. Not now.

Izuku emerged from the hidden entrance of the Bank of Evil, the metal door quietly sealing shut behind him with a hiss. He adjusted the collar of his sleek jacket as he stepped into the cool dusk air of the alley, his thoughts still clouded by the strange behavior of Mr. Perkins.

What was up with him today...? The man had always been a little stiff, sure, but this time it felt like he was fishing for something. Too many questions. Too carefully worded.

He shook his head.

He had just reached the corner where he parked his custom-built aeroplane scooter when a loud CLANG broke through the alley silence, followed by a string of metallic rattling and something that suspiciously sounded like someone growling.

Izuku's eyes narrowed.

His hand instinctively hovered near his freeze ray, fingers twitching. He rounded the corner with quiet steps, prepared for a trap—

But what he found instead was...shorter than he expected.

A kid. No older than six. Dressed in a rumpled grade school uniform and a red hat with two golden spike-shaped horns on the front, crouched down and furiously wrestling with one of the scooter's tires using a rusty wrench that was clearly too big for his hands. The child grunted, teeth bared as he struggled to unscrew the bolts. Izuku was surprised, confused, curious, and amused, all at once.

He hadn't even noticed Izuku approaching.

"...What do you think you're doing, kid?" Izuku said, more bemused than angry.

The boy flinched, instantly spinning around into a guarded crouch, wrench raised in trembling hands like a sword. His school uniform was scuffed, his shoes torn. His eyes, however, were defiant.

The boy lunged with a wild swing.

Izuku didn't even blink.

He caught the wrench mid-swing with one hand, casually yanking it out of the boy's grip and tossing it behind him. It clattered uselessly on the ground.

"Nice try," Izuku muttered, tilting his head. "Points for guts, I guess."

The boy's lip curled as he held up his arms, stretching toward Izuku. "I'll use my quirk!"

Izuku raised a brow. "And what'll that do, exactly?"

"Shut up! Who the hell are you?" the boy shouted.

Izuku didn't answer. He only stepped closer, slowly. "Nah, who the hell are you? You're the one who's trying to dismantle a wheel from my scooter."

The boy hesitated, arms trembling but still held out like he was ready to blast something—anything.

"...K-Kota," he muttered as he hung his head low. "Izumi Kota."

Izuku nodded, filing the name away. "Izumi Kota, huh? Where are your parents? Don't you have somewhere to be? Home? Dinner? Something?"

That struck a nerve. Kota's whole body went tense, expression hardening. Without a word, he flared his hands, releasing two small bursts of pressurized water.

Izuku sidestepped them both with a lazy pivot, sighing as the blasts harmlessly hit the wall behind him.

"Alright, that's enough," he muttered.

Kota suddenly charged forward with a snarl and attempted the oldest trick in the book.

A punch to the groin.

Izuku's eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Really?" He caught the kid's wrist easily mid-air, lifted him by the collar like a misbehaving cat, and stared him down.

Kota squirmed. "Go on! Hit me! I dare you!"

Izuku tilted his head, unimpressed. "Sorry, I don't hit children. Not even the mouthy ones."

"Coward!"

"Brat."

Kota scowled. "Old man!"

That stopped Izuku cold. "Excuse me?" he asked, affronted and befuddled.

"You heard me! You've got that washed-up 'tired of life' look!"

Izuku looked genuinely offended. "I'm fifteen. Sixteen in two months, thank you very much!"

Kota blinked in surprise and confusion. "Wait, seriously? You're fifteen and driving this...this thing?!" he jabbed a thumb at the scooter.

Izuku shrugged smugly. "World's full of surprises."

The boy's eyes then widen. "Wait, you're Deku!" He pointed out, finally recognizing the figure before him.

"Yeah I am." Izuku said blatantly. "I'm also a villain. Aren't you, like, supposed to cower before me, or something?" He asked in absurd seriousness and casualness. "Or do you try to punch the nuts of every stranger you meet?"

"You're not a stranger! Everyone knows who you are!"

"My point still stands!"

After a few more absurd back-and-forths, they then stood there in awkward silence, the only sound being a nearby dripping pipe and the hum of traffic blocks away.

Then, Izuku exhaled through his nose and slowly set Kota back on the ground.

"I'm only going to say this once," he said, suddenly serious. "And you better put some actual thought into your answer."

Kota huffed. "Oh yeah?! What?!"

A long beat. Then, after glancing at his scooter and back at Kota, Izuku smirked.

"Wanna go for a ride?"

"...Huh?"

Vrrrr!

Izuku's aeroplane scooter howled through the sky, its massive afterburners leaving chunky, twisting trails of exhaust behind them, screaming defiance into the wind.

"YEEEESSS! HAHAHA! FOR ONCE, I THANK YOU, EXCAVATOR!!" Izuku shouted with glee, his hair whipping wildly in the wind as he held onto the controls like a mad scientist with a jet engine.

Meanwhile, in the front co-seat, Kota screamed his lungs out.

"AAAAAAAHHHH! WE'RE GONNA DIIIIEEE!!"

His tiny hands gripped the side handles so hard it looked like he was trying to fuse with the frame of the scooter itself. His little legs kicked out instinctively every time the vehicle hit a sharp turn, dipped low, or banked suddenly.

"W-WHAT EVEN IS THIS THING?!" he yelled over the roar of the engine.

"It's my new vehicle! Was gifted to me by a friend of mine!" Izuku called back, far too casually. "You're the first test subject for a civilian-grade co-rider seat!"

"THIS ISN'T CIVILIZED AT ALL!"

Izuku just laughed in delight, taking the scooter into a sudden corkscrew spin for fun. "Ah, live a little, kid!"

"I'M SIX! I HAVEN'T LIVED AT ALL YET!"

Another flip. Another scream. Another laugh.

Eventually, Izuku let off the throttle and steadied the flight. The roar of the engines softened into a low hum, and the violent jolts of chaotic acrobatics gave way to smooth gliding through the clouds.

Kota's shoulders gradually relaxed. His grip on the safety handles loosened. The terrified shrieks faded, replaced by heavy breaths and occasional sniffs. He didn't say anything as he just stared out at the sprawling city beneath them.

Izuku glanced down slightly in front of him at Kota, letting a moment of silence pass before speaking.

"So, Kota," he asked casually. "Wanna explain now why you're running away from home? Or why you were trying to jack one of my tires?"

No answer.

A quiet tension hung in the air like a loaded spring.

Kota's lips were drawn in a hard line, and he didn't meet Izuku's eyes. His fists clenched against his lap, shaking ever so slightly. There was no scream this time, just a silence that felt louder than any of the yelling before.

"...No?" Izuku said softly, not pressing. "Still a sensitive topic. Okay then."

He adjusted the flight path again, aiming toward a slower cruise along the upper skyline.

Izuku didn't need an answer. He'd seen that look in the mirror before. The angry silence. The quivering jaw held stiff with pride. That wordless rage burning under the skin with nowhere to go.

He recognized it because he'd lived it.

Seems like you got your own fair share of parental issues too, huh? he thought solemnly.

I wish you were never born!

Izuku shook his head, trying to forget those words told to him by his mother that hurt so, so much.

He didn't pity Kota. He empathized because he recognized. And right now, he recognized another angry, hurt kid just trying to survive in a world that didn't make space for him.

Just like me.

Izuku leaned back, one hand casually resting on the throttle, eyes never leaving the sky ahead.

"You know," he began, voice low, thoughtful, "I used to think adults had all the answers. That they'd always protect you. Be there for you."

Kota flinched slightly. Izuku saw it.

"Sometimes, the people who are supposed to love you the most are the ones who mess you up the worst," he continued. "And no one else sees it. Or they don't want to."

Another silence. But this time, Kota didn't seem so guarded as he continued to listen to what Izuku had to say.

"I'm not saying I get what you're going through," Izuku added. "But I'm not gonna pretend I don't see it either."

Still no reply.

Izuku let the quiet hang for a moment longer...then a mischievous grin crept across his face.

"But," he said, flipping a few switches on the dashboard, "what I can do...is cheer you up."

"...Wait, what—?"

The afterburners roared to life.

"Hold on tight!" Izuku shouted.

Kota barely had time to scream before they went into another barrel roll, tearing through the clouds like a missile. The boy screamed again, terrified and exhilarated, before that scream melted into wild laughter he hadn't heard from himself in years.

For a moment, just a brief moment, the pain he felt of his parents' loss was gone.

Izuku smirked in satisfaction.

Kota looked back and noticed the smug, satisfied look on Izuku's face, then immediately scowled. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like you knew that'd happen!"

"I did."

"Smug bastard."

"Language."

"Old man."

"Fifteen!"

Kota snorted. "Still old."

Their bickering continued the entire way as Izuku adjusted the controls and set a course back to Excavator's base.

By the time the cloaked scooter touched down outside the hidden scrapyard entrance to the base, the sun was already beginning to dip. Kota knew that he had to go home by now, but...oh well.

He hopped off, wobbled slightly from the lingering motion-sickness, and took in his surroundings.

His eyes widened.

The base itself was something out of a sci-fi movie. A massive, cavernous structure tucked beneath old industrial ruins. Sparks flew from welding tools. Giant mechanical arms moved overhead. Minions scurried across scaffolding and ziplines, arguing, hammering, accidentally setting themselves on fire, and flinging tools across the room with cartoonish chaos.

Kota flinched as a minion was launched out of a pipe, screaming in gibberish before landing face-first in a bucket of screws. Another minion popped its head out from the bucket beside him, gave a cheerful "Woohoo!" and dove back down.

Kota blinked. "...What the hell are these things?"

"They're my minions," Izuku said casually, brushing past him. "Ignore their, uh...chaos. It's part of their charm, I guess."

Kota didn't look convinced. "They're freaky."

"You get used to them. Eventually."

Kota crossed his arms. "I saw them on TV once...I thought they were just CGI or something." He commented, not wanting to admit that he sometimes watches ridiculous minion compilations on HeroTube.

"They are real," Izuku said, grinning as he gestured to the horde of yellow, overexcited gremlins causing OSHA violations left and right. "Unfortunately."

And then Kota saw it. The skeletal frame of something massive looming in the center of the base.

His jaw dropped.

"What is that?!"

"Our ride," Izuku replied. "Well, eventually."

The airship was in its early stages, just the steel ribs of its massive frame arched like the spine of some sleeping beast. Engine the size of a small car lay unbuilt in it's behind. Minions worked on welding, hammering, and throwing blueprints at each other.

It looked...huge. Sharp. Glorious.

"Whoa..."

Before Kota could ask any more questions, a voice echoed from a suspended work platform above.

"You're back!" Excavator called out, his voice booming from his mechanical throat. "Listen, the airship is—" He paused mid-sentence when he noticed the second, much smaller figure trailing awkwardly behind Izuku. Kota immediately tried to hide behind Izuku's leg.

There was a pause.

"...Who's the kid? Did you just—Did you just kidnap a child?!"

Izuku casually waved his hand. "Nah. He followed me by choice."

Excavator stared at him in disbelief. "Wha—?! How did—?! What happened?!"

Izuku pointed his thumb at Kota, who was now awkwardly trying to look anywhere else but at Excavator. "Well, after my meeting with Mr. Perkins, I was heading back to my vehicle and found this little gremlin trying to steal one of my tires from my scooter."

"I wasn't gonna actually steal it!" Kota snapped defensively.

Izuku raised an eyebrow. "You literally attacked me with a wrench."

Kota mumbled, "You startled me..."

Izuku shrugged and turned back to Excavator. "Anyway, one thing led to another, and bam, I have acquired a child."

Excavator just stood there, hands on hips, staring in deadpan disbelief and stunned silence.

Then, with a defeated exhale, he muttered, "Y'know what? I'm not even gonna ask anymore."

"Anyways, where's Compress?" Izuku asked, effortlessly changing the subject like a professional chaos distributor.

Excavator groaned and rubbed the back of his neck as he wasn't going to pry too deep into Izuku's antics or decisions. As long as the kid wasn't going to be more of a headache than the minions, he'd let it slide. Frankly, he doubted anyone could be more exhausting than the minions.

"Compress is off running an errand," Excavator said as he turned back to his workstation, welding torch igniting in his hand. "Sent him out to salvage some scrap metal, circuit boards, old thrusters, basically everything we need. I gave him a full list. Shouldn't take him more than a day."

Izuku nodded thoughtfully. "Hm. I see."

With the subject casually shifted, Excavator finally returned to what he'd meant to bring up earlier. "By the way, the airship's mid-frame is nearly stabilized. We've got the skeleton welded, fuel pods installed, and I finally got the third reactor to stop exploding whenever a minion breathes on it."

Izuku chuckled lightly. "Progress."

"I wouldn't call that 'progress' so much as a delay in catastrophe," Excavator muttered.

Izuku gave a small nod of approval, then glanced down. Kota was still pressed lightly against his leg, looking around wide-eyed and wary. The boy's grip was firm, one tight enough to speak volumes, but quiet enough to go unnoticed by most. Izuku, of course, noticed.

He looked back to Excavator, who'd resumed welding again with rhythmic bursts of light. The buzz of saws, clanks of dropped tools, and minions yelling in nonsense gibberish filled the entire base with a low roar of barely contained chaos.

"Excavator!" Izuku called over the din.

No answer.

"EXCAVATOR!!"

Sparks flew. The welder's flame cut off abruptly. "Ugh! What?!" he barked, yanking his goggles up with clear irritation.

"Is the Bluetooth drone ready? I want to use it now."

"What?" he asked, squinting.

"The Bluetooth drone!" Izuku repeated, louder this time. "Is it ready?!"

"Whaaat?!"

Izuku groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. Excavator's occasional old hearing can be quite...annoying. "Oh, for the love of...THE DRONE!"

Excavator finally heard what Izuku said. "Oh! The Bluetooth drone! Why didn't you say that the first time?!"

"I did! Three times!"

"Yeah, yeah. Don't get your panties in a twist," he muttered. "It's done. I put it in the supply closet in the office room."

There was a beat of silence.

And then...

"Speaking of closets, can I just mention that I got a new closet the other day? It's such an improvement over the last one! The versatility! The secrecy! The elegance of a confined space full of mystery and order—"

"Enough with the closet talk!" Izuku snapped.

Later, in the office, Izuku returned with the drone in hand, booting it up with a few expert taps. He looked down at Kota, who eyed the device curiously but suspiciously.

"C'mon, let's go, Kota," Izuku said with a grin.

The boy tilted his head, blinking. "Go where?"

Izuku's smirk deepened, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "To have some fun~!"

Kota's brows rose. "...That's what you said before flying like a maniac."

Izuku chuckled. "And it was fun, wasn't it?"

"No comment."

Izuku turned on his heel and began walking. "You're learning."

The cold wind of Takobah Beach nipped at Kaminari's sweat-soaked skin as he collapsed onto the sand with a dramatic groan, arms trembling, lungs burning.

"One...hundred," he wheezed out, his arms giving out beneath him as he flopped flat on the beach like a broken action figure.

All Might, standing tall with arms crossed and a bright grin in his skeletal form, gave a firm nod. "Good! Now give me two hundred more."

Kaminari's head snapped up like a spring-loaded trap. "TWO HUNDRED?!"

"Yes!" All Might declared proudly. "Right after you ran three kilometers around the beach—with me on your back—and then finished a hundred push-ups. This is all part of your daily warm-up."

"W-WARM-UP?!" Kaminari sputtered, practically foaming at the mouth. "I'm gonna die!"

"You won't," All Might said, though his grin shrank a little. "It's all part of the American Dream Plan!" He said in dramatic exaggeration, momentarily turning into his buffed-up self and puffing back.

Kaminari stayed flat on the ground, arms splayed like a starfish. "Why...why am I doing this again?" he asked between ragged breaths.

All Might's expression turned more serious, the wind catching the hem of his U.A. gym coat.

"One For All," he said. "It's not just a quirk. It's a burden. A powerful vessel that contains generations of strength and resolve. Even with your natural ability and solid physical conditioning, it's not enough. Your body needs to be ready—or it will break. If your body can't withstand the force... it could tear itself apart."

There was a long beat.

Kaminari's eyes widened in horror. "W-Wait...really?! It can do that?!"

All Might scratched his jaw. "Well...I don't know. I'm not sure, honestly. I didn't have that many issues when I inherited it."

Kaminari's jaw comically dropped at All Might's deadpan answer. "Then WHY would you say something like that?!"

All Might looked sheepish, arms flailing slightly. "I was just trying to motivate you!"

"By SCAAAAARING me?!" Kaminari cried. "What are you, Aizawa-sensei?! I already have nightmares of him randomly expelling me! Now I gotta deal with YOU threatening spontaneous combustion?! I don't need two scary teachers in my life!"

"I'm new to this teaching thing too, okay?! Gimme a break!" All Might shouted back, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

After a moment of silence, the two shared a laugh.

Then Kaminari slumped again, although he was smiling this time. "...This is what I get for dreaming big."

All Might grinned again as he looked down on his successor. There's a reason why he chose Kaminari. Although, admittedly, it was a gamble. But he's running out of time. He was unsure of who to pick in Class 1-A, hell, even Class 1-B as his successor, but after witnessing a standout heroic display from Denki Kaminari, he made his choice.

Flashback.

"Listen up! No one move, or else this kid gets a one way ticket to a Michael Jackson concert!" Baffled and terrified screams ring out as a giant, questionably shaped man grabbed a young girl to take hostage. What started off was supposed to be a simple store robbery, now escalated into a hostage situation. And worst of all, no pro heroes were on the scene. Except for one. Or, in a way, two.

Damn it! Cursed All Might under his breath, as he could do nothing but helplessly watch in the sidelines. His limit already reached for the day.

"Hey, ugly!" A voice shot out from within the crowd, catching the villain's attention.

All Might turned to the source of the voice, too. And saw who would be his future apprentice and student, Denki Kaminari, who was just on his was home after another day of school in U.A.

Young Kaminari?! What do you think you're doing?! All Might panicked.

"You talking to me, brat? Can't you see this is a hostage situation?!" The villain snarled, though he seemed irritated by the boy's comment, and was growing increasingly annoyed by the girl's screaming.

"Yeah, no, duh! That's why I wanted to offer myself in her place!" Everyone in the crowd looked as him as if he were some kind of maniac when Kaminari said that. All Might was stunned, as well.

Even the villain raised a confused, skeptical brow. "Really? You'd just offer yourself up like that in exchange for this girl?"

Kaminari nodded. "Of course! I can't just let a cute girl be held hostage like that! Plus, you did say you were offering a one-way ticket to a Michael Jackson concert." His answer caused even the initially terrified bystanders to look at him in complete bafflement.

The villain was befuddled, if not even a little amused, by the boy's answer. "I-I was, pfft!, I was exaggerating, kid." He then glanced down at the girl he kept hostage who was still screaming. "But, you know what? Sure, you can have the girl in exchange for yourself. Her screaming was really starting to grate on my ears." 

He lifted the girl up from behind the neck and offered her body to Kaminari, who began stepping forward, and true to his word, freed the girl in exchange for himself. The villain once again began to spew out his threats. "Alright, now, I've still got a hostage! Now listen up! Give me what I want, or I will actually give this kid what he wished for, and send him a one-way ticket to a Michael Jackson concert! Or I swear, I'll-!"

BZZZZ-!

"AAAAARRRGH!!!" The villain screamed in agony as he got hit with somewhere around 1 million volts, knocking him out cold.

All eyes were now on the boy who had caused the discharge, who slowly turned to the crowd, and gave them a thumbs up. Well, two thumbs up...that were going back and forth. While Kaminari himself was looking like a...well, for lack of a better word, a derp.

That boy...he easily turned such a tense situation to his advantage. All Might thought in amazement from within the cheering crowd. Although, did did sweat-drop as he examined Kaminari being in his derpy mode once again. And after giving it much thought, taking in Kaminari's impressive display as well as considering his aging time of being the Symbol Of Peace.

All Might made his choice. It was a gamble. But, he made his choice.

Kaminari was walking down an empty street, feeling proud of standing up to that villain and saving that girl. Although he did feel a little embarrassed of how he went all 'brain-fried' in the end.

Actually, scratch that. He was really embarrassed of how that ended. Curse this drawback of his! 

Now he was in mad aura debt!

He got thanked and warned by the pro heroes who arrived at the scene, telling him that they were grateful for his actions, but warned him to not pull such a stunt like that again.

As Kaminari continued to walk, he was suddenly intercepted and confronted by a certain celebrity.

"Young Kaminari. May I have a moment of your time."

Kaminari was shocked and startled. Sure, he was starting to get used to having THE All Might as one of his teachers in U.A, but still!

"A-ALL MIGHT-SENSEI?!" He sputtered.

Sure enough, towering over him on the sidewalk was the man himself.

"Yes, indeed!" All Might said with a boisterous grin, arms folded over his chest. "It is I, All Might! And I've come to speak with you, personally."

Kaminari stood stiff as a board. "Y-You have?! Why?!"

"I witnessed what you did today," All Might said. "You were brave. Smart. Reckless, yes, but you saw someone in need and you acted. That kind of instinct can't be taught."

Kaminari rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. "Heh...thanks, I guess. I mean, I probably shouldn't have fried my own brain to do it, but hey, the girl's safe."

All Might smiled more softly this time. "I am aware, Young Kaminari. But, please, there is no need to apologize for short-comings! I'll remember today, not just as the day a student showed heroism, but as the day I found my successor."

Kaminari blinked.

Pause.

"...Wait. What?"

The smile on All Might's face twitched slightly as steam began rising from his body.

"W-Wait, WHAT?!" Kaminari repeated, panicking. "What do you mean, successor?!"

All Might raised a hand calmly. "You'll understand...in a moment."

The steam billowed.

Kaminari took a step back. "Wha-?! what's happening to you?!"

Then, foom!

The smoke cleared.

Where once stood the Symbol of Peace now stood a skeletal, sunken-eyed figure in a massive hoodie. All Might's true form.

"Wha—HUH?! WHO ARE YOU?! ARE YOU DYING?! ARE YOU A SHAPESHIFTER?! ARE YOU-?"

All Might held up a hand with a tired smile. "I promise, I can explain."

Kaminari was still vibrating with panic, eyes darting between the scrawny man and the empty street.

And so, on that cold, quiet night, All Might told him everything—about the wound, the secret, the quirk, the burden.

And the offer.

To inherit the torch.

To become the next bearer of One For All.

Needless to say, All Might thought it went a lot better than the last time he revealed his true form to a teenager.

Flashback end.

All Might stood nearby with arms crossed, still in his true form, watching his protégé with a look of calm satisfaction.

"Don't worry too much. You're doing great, Young Kaminari" he said warmly. "Keep this up, and you might just master enough control to use at least 5% of One For All."

Kaminari groaned. "Yay...character development through suffering..."

All Might chuckled, then gave him a small clap on the shoulder. "Cheer up. You'll have a chance to show off what you've learned soon."

Kaminari blinked. "Huh? What do you mean?"

All Might gave him a proud, almost nostalgic smile. "Why, the U.S.J. trip, of course! Great opportunity for hands-on training." He explained, assuming that Aizawa already told the class about it.

Kaminari slowly pushed himself up on his elbows. "...Huh? We're going on a trip to the U.S.J?"

"...Er...whoops."

Izuku Midoriya, also known to the world as Deku, the most infamous and controversial villain in recent memory, a quirkless anomaly who’d toppled banks, humiliated pro heroes, and had a grand heist for Tokyo Tower simmering in the back of his mind, was currently perched atop his parked aero-scooter in a forgotten, weed-ridden parking lot…

…roasting random strangers through a drone’s Bluetooth speaker.

“Your music skill is a crime against ears and nature!” Izuku yelled into the mic, watching through the screen as a street performer’s off-key caterwauling sputtered to a halt. The poor man looked around in confusion as passersby began to chuckle.

“HAHAHA! LIKE, BROOOO, EVEN YOUR SAXOPHONE'S CRYING!” Cackling like a goblin, Izuku leaned into the drone controls. The small flying bot zipped away from the stunned musician, curving down toward a man aggressively trying to sell knockoff hero merch to uninterested pedestrians.

“Buddy, even All Might wouldn’t smile at those prices. You’re robbing people worse than Harry and Marv from Home Alone.”

A woman gasped. The man stumbled back, bewildered, as the crowd laughed.

Kota sat stiffly in the co-pilot seat beside him, staring at the scene with wide, disbelieving eyes. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he followed Deku, the living urban legend, wanted criminal, and quirkless enigma.

But it certainly wasn’t this.

Kota blinked. “Aren’t you supposed to be, I don’t know...doing evil stuff or something? Like, what villains do?"”

Izuku grinned comically wide. “This is evil. Watch."

Kota just shook his head slowly, utterly baffled.

Next, the drone zipped above a sketchy alleyway, where a street thug was trying to coerce two girls.

"What the hell is this guy doing?" Izuku narrowed his eyes as he dipped the drone lower.

“Yo, Chuck E. Cheese discount mobster. Didn’t your mama teach you consent?”

The thug jumped, looking up wildly. “Who said that?!”

“You’re out here lookin’ like a failed GTA side quest.  How you expect women to even talk to you when your fat-ass out here lookin' like bisexual lizard. Over here built like a non-binary komodo dragon head-ass. Like, didn't you hear them say no, or are your ears just for decoration?”

The thug ran. Both in fear...and embarrassment.

One of the girls whispered in disbelief, “Was that Deku?…Did he just save us?”

Izuku said nothing as he continued flying the drone. He paused for a beat, then added with a shrug as he quietly muttered, “And I’m not Bakugou either. I only roast people for stuff they can control.”

Kota blinked slowly. “…Huh? Who’s Bakugou?”

Izuku blinked, not expecting Kota to hear him, but waved dismissively. “Long story. Loud. Explody. You’ll hate him.”

Kota looked back at the screen. “So, this is what the world’s most wanted villain does in his free time?”

“Hey,” Izuku said with mock indignation, turning to him, “some people actually golf, believe it or not. This is just something I've been wanting to do for quite some time.” He explained as remembered the confused look on Excavator's face when he asked for a bluetooth speaker installed on a drone as as drones were mainly used to be stealthy.

A pause. Then Kota actually let out the quietest snort that Izuku totally didn't hear as he continued roasting people left and right. Yeah, sure, he needed to prep for his heist, but this was more important!

"Hey, purple shirt! That yee-yee ass haircut is illegal in three prefectures!"

"To the couple in matching hoodies, blink twice if you’re being held hostage by a fashion terrorist."

This.

This was how Japan's most popular and controversial villain in recent history was spending his day.

Not plotting mass destruction.

Not crafting doomsday tech.

Not enacting world domination.

But sitting in a rundown parking lot, heckling civilians with a Bluetooth drone.

Yep. World's greatest villain, all right.

But it was on the rooftop basketball court that really got the party started.

Izuku’s drone veered over a school rooftop, where a group of students were finishing up a casual basketball match. Most of the players had dispersed for break, but one guy was still out there, clearly trying way too hard. Izuku’s eyes narrowed with amusement as he spotted the group of pretty girls lounging on the sidelines, casually watching.

He smirked. That kind of smirk that only appeared when he was up to no good.

“Ohhh, I see what this is,” Izuku muttered mischievously. “Bro’s tryin’ to impress the huzz.”

Kota tilted his head. “The what now?”

“The girls, kid. The crowd. Look at ’em all lined up watching. Classic court simp maneuver."

He adjusted the drone, hovering it just above the court. The buzzing sound drew some curious glances. A few students started noticing. When Izuku spoke, gathering the attention, one of them squinted and asked, “Wait...is that Deku’s voice?”

The group buzzed with nervous curiosity. Then Izuku began roasting through the drone’s speaker.

“You cannot hoop, bro.”

Everyone turned to the guy with the ball. He tried to play it off, tossing it up toward the hoop in an effort to reclaim some dignity and prove Deku's words wro—

CLANG. Miss.

“…Missed,” Izuku said flatly, then broke into wild, maniacal laughter that echoed across the court. "HAHAHAHAHA!"

Gasps, stifled laughter, and bewilder noises filled the crowd.

“Yo, bro, who is this guy?!” one of the students cackled.

“Deku! That’s Deku!” another replied, pulling out their phone.

Undeterred, the guy kept shooting.

CLANG. Again.

“Still missing,” Izuku sang. “You might wanna consider a new hobby, my guy.”

The group of girls on the sidelines were now openly giggling, phones up, recording the unfolding roast session.

Even Kota, trying hard to stay composed, had to cover his mouth to hide a snicker.

This happened again...and again...and again...

But Izuku wasn't done, seeing just how angry the guy was. He leaned closer to the mic and even began heckling toward the crowd.

“Hey, crowd, maybe give him a hand. Looks like he’s down to his last shred of dignity.”

That got a full wave of laughter from the students.

Red-faced and fuming, the boy finally snapped. He hurled the basketball upward in frustration, aiming for the drone.

And, lo and behold, it missed by a large margin. The ball itself also launched over the rooftop fence.

“AND HE MISSES THE DRONE TOO! OH MY GOD, THIS IS HISTORIC!” Izuku howled with glee as he chortled like the mad, little gremlin that he is. 

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

The entire court erupted. Phones were out. Memes were being born. The girls laughter were doubled over. Even the drone wobbled slightly in the air like it was laughing. One of the boys shouted, “Bro! You just lost the ball and the crowd!”

At this point, the guy's great grandchildren were going to have to pay for the generational aura debt this guy had.

"Pfft-! Hahahahaha!" This was what finally broke Kota. He cracked, then he cackled. He laughed—a full-belly, eyes-squinting kind of laugh that had him doubled over in his seat.

Izuku looked over at him, that familiar smug grin curling on his lips.

“See?” he said softly. “Told you this was fun!"

Kota wiped at his eyes, still giggling from the drone spectacle, but quickly tried to play it cool. “Yeah, whatever…” he muttered, turning his head to hide his smile.

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the warm afterglow of laughter still lingering in the air, the drone now drifting lazily in the distance.

But then Izuku noticed it again. Kota’s expression slipping. That quiet sadness. The laughter faded too fast. The shadow behind the eyes returned.

Izuku didn’t look at him directly, but spoke carefully. “If you’re not gonna tell me what happened with you and your parents, that’s fine. I’m not gonna push. But...” he paused, “...can you at least tell me why you’re running away from home? Or why you were so willing to follow me around? You know, a renownd villain?”

Kota didn’t answer.

He gripped the hem of his shirt tightly, eyes fixed on the pavement below. I know I should go home now, but...!

He thought about Auntie Shino, who will probably worry about his whereabouts. About the empty halls. The memorial pictures. The questions. The pity in people’s eyes. The suffocating silence.

He ran away because just wanted to go somewhere, anywhere, that didn't remind him of his parents. Like his home. If he even has one, at this point.

“I…don’t have a home anymore. I think.” His voice was low, strained.

Then, almost as if regretting showing even that much weakness, he shot back, “And it’s none of your business anyway! So stop asking!”

Izuku stared at him for a long moment, undeterred by Kota's response.

Then he sighed and gave a small shrug. “I suppose that’s fair.”

Kota blinked. That…wasn’t the reaction he expected.

Izuku leaned back in his seat. He wasn’t about to go trauma-dumping about his own parental baggage to some kid he met two hours ago, no matter how relatable the vibe was. But still...he knew that look on Kota’s face. That hollow, bitter fire. He had worn it too.

As the silence between then thickened, Izuku rested his chin in his palm, thinking. Okay, what now? He wasn’t heartless. Not enough to just dump the kid somewhere and bounce. But this wasn’t exactly a babysitting gig, either. What was the move here?

Should I drop him off at an orphanage?
Should I give him to the authoritie-no. Absolutely not. That'll lead back to me and expose everything.
Or should I just...keep him?

He side-eyed Kota.

Could he really keep a kid?

...That’s a question I should probably be asking myself a lot more seriously, he thought.

But then again, Kota had followed him. Had stayed. Had laughed.

Izuku turned slightly. “So…you got nowhere else to go?”

Kota hesitated. Then gave a quiet nod.

Izuku took a deep breath. “...Alright then. How about you just bunk in with me for a while? At least until we figure something out.”

Kota looked at him like he’d grown two heads.

“You serious?”

“I am very bad at jokes.”

There was a pause, then a faint, almost imperceptible nod from Kota.

Izuku smirked. “Cool. Just don’t go around breaking any more of my scooter parts. Or trying to punch me in the nuts again. Or cause any problems for me.”

Kota scowled. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”

“Nope.”

A beat.

Kota crossed his arms, face reddening slightly. “...Fine. I’ll stay. But don’t think I’m gonna start calling you ‘dad’ or anything.” (A/N: Oh, how wrong he will be in the long future.)

Izuku snorted. “I’m not that old.”

“You kinda are.”

“I'm fifteen!”

“Sure, grandpa.”

“Please stop trying to call me old.”

Kota smirked.

Izuku rolled his eyes but chuckled under his breath. “You little brat.”

Although on the inside, we was wondering whether or not if he made the right choice...

It was the next day, and U.A's Support Course Development Studio was off to a hectic morning.

Sparks flew. Steam hissed. Screws and bolts scattered the floor like metallic confetti as the air was filled with the sound of grinding gears and clattering tools.

Power Loader stood in the middle of it all, bleary-eyed, a cup of coffee shaking in his hand, and wearing a look of exhausted dread that could only come from one place: Mei Hatsume.

“Hatsume… it’s six-thirty in the morning,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How do you have this much energy so early…?!”

“Good morning, sensei!” Mei chirped brightly, completely unfazed by the studio wreckage behind her. “I was just making some babies! Don't mind me!”

He sighed. “Please don’t tell me you’re trying to recreate that freeze ray again…Hatsume, the last one nearly froze the entire studio! Midnight almost slipped into a coma when she came to visit!”

Mei tapped her chin thoughtfully, goggles pushed up on her head. “Hmm, yes, that was unfortunate. But also extremely educational! I still don’t know how Deku manages to maintain temperature control on that kind of cryo-tech. It’s incredible!”

Power Loader flinched at the name as he pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated by Mei's continuous admiration for him. “For the last time, Hatsume, Deku is a villain!”

“Allegedly!” she sang, clearly not listening. “He may be a villain, but he’s a genius villain! His tech is next-level stuff. I mean, seriously, how does he compress coolant systems that small without structural compromise? Guhhh! I wanna reverse-engineer everything he’s ever made!”

“Hatsume…”

“Which is why I’m making a new baby!” she declared proudly, spinning around with a flourish and holding up a shiny, sleek prototype. It looked similar to Deku’s freeze ray… only with pulsing red coils and tiny exhaust ports. “Ta-daaa! It's like Deku’s freeze ray, only it blasts fire instead of ice!”

“…So a flamethrower.”

Mei blinked. “Well, yeah, but cuter! I haven’t decided on a name yet… Maybe something like Inferno-chan!”

Power Loader stared at her, deadpan. This is going to end in flames, isn’t it?

The workday (if you could even call 6:30 AM a “day”) resumed with Mei gleefully hurling unfinished gadgets over her shoulder like a squirrel tossing acorns.

Power Loader flinched every time one of them hit the ground with a suspicious clang, hiss, or a sudden, ominous tick-tick-tick.

“HATSUME!” he shouted, narrowly dodging a wrench that embedded itself in the wall behind him. “Stop throwing your junk all over the place!”

“They’re not junk!” Mei barked back without looking, still welding. “They’re beautiful, but unstable and unready babies!”

“Then store your beautiful, unstable babies in the closet!” he snapped, pointing toward the large metal wardrobe tucked in the far corner of the studio. “It’s right there! Use it!”

The moment the word “closet” came out of Power Loader's mouth, Mei's fingers twitched and her body went rigid.

Her brow furrowed. Her eye visibly spasmed. Her welding torch flickered off as her hand froze mid-air.

‘No… not this early in the morning, sensei. Please don’t—’

But it was too late.

Power Loader turned toward the closet with almost reverent awe. “Like all closets, it’s big, useful, secure, and majestic! Honestly, Hatsume, never take closets for granted. They’re the unsung heroes of storage innovation. So simple. So elegant. So—”

“—So overhyped!” Mei finally snapped, throwing down her tools. “Oh my God, sensei, not another closet speech!”

Power Loader reeled back as if slapped. “How dare you!”

“I said what I said!” Mei declared, jabbing a finger toward him. “Closets are lame! You could just use open shelving!”

“Shelving?! SHELVING?!” Power Loader looked like he might cry. “You take that back! Closets are humanity’s greatest invention! A shrine to utility! A cathedral of order!”

“They’re just boring boxes with doors!”

“They’re boxes with potential!” he argued passionately, practically glowing. “Do you even understand the structural and philosophical brilliance of concealed containment?!”

“Oh yeah?! Fine!” Mei growled, grabbing her flamethrower prototype with a manic glint in her eye. “Well, consider this payback for every time you bored me, the class, and even Present Mic with your ‘Closet Chronicles!’”

“Wait—what are you—?!”

FOOOOSH!

A blast of flame shot into the air, singeing the ceiling. Power Loader screamed, arms flailing as he dove to grab a fire extinguisher from the wall.

“HATSUME!”

“FOR THE RECORD, I WARNED YOU THIS WOULD HAPPEN!”

Needless to say, it was a hectic morning.

u/TweedleDee&TweedleDum
Deku the type of Villainous Victor to say he will "Destroy" the hero because he can't say "kill" in a G-rated show.
🦹‍♂️Despicable Deku

Chapter Text

Hello, everybody! Author-san here!

This isn't another chapter of the story, I'm sorry. But don't worry! I'm not announcing that I'm dropping the story or anything like that! 

This is the concept of the very first chapter of Despicable Deku that I've decided I want to show you all! Since it was on this very day that I posted the first chapter of "Despicable Deku", after all.

I've had this in the chamber since before I've started writing this fic, obviously. I was originally going to use this, but found it rather...dull. So, I ditched but kept the receipts just in case there was something I wrote there that I enjoyed and still wanted to use.

Basically, it's a word for word, bar for bar copy of the first Despicable Me movie but with MHA characters, but I hope you enjoy!

Who knows? Maybe I can use some of this in the future!

Take this as my token of appreciation to y'all!

Honk! Honk! 

A tour ship honks as it cruises along the seas of America. Inside the ship was a crowd of people coming from all around the world taking on a vacation to the Unites States. All of them with various different ethnicities, quirks, shapes and sizes.

Once the ship stops at it's destination, all the tourists began to get off one by one. Most of them were rather ethical and peaceful people other than a a rowdy young boy from China, Zhang, who stumbled out the ship tethered to a kid leash, with his mother holding onto the other end very tightly. All of the other tourists pile out, too, and began to stare in awe.

In front of them stands the great Statue Of Liberty, America's symbol of freedom, inspiration, and hope. Zhang's mutant-type father turns to his wife and began to pose like the Statue of Liberty itself. "Quick, honey, take a picture!" He says with enthusiasm evident in his voice. His wife began to snap some pictures, but through the lenses of her phone, she sees Zhang running off into the Statue itself. He has unhooked himself from the leash.

"Zhang! You get back here right now!" She calls out to her son, but Zhang isn't listening. He's too busy running through the roped-off area that surrounds the Statue. He holds his sharp toy airplane and swoops it through the air, clueless of the danger he is getting into.

"No! Don't!" Shouts a security guard.
"Stop right there, kid!" Shouts another security guard.

The two security guards chase after the little boy. Suddenly afraid, Zhang unintentionally uses his quirk to jump high in the sky, and aiming right toward the statue. He soars high up in the sky and was about to hit the sharp edges of the statue!

Zhang screams.
His parents scream.

Kooosh! Boiiing! 

Zhang hits the pyramid-and then bounces off! Zhang soars over everyone's heads. The other tourists quickly recorded the situation in front of them as Zhang flies through the air, heading straight to his mother.

"I've got him! I've got him!" She screams frantically, tracking the boys trajectory through the air. With a splat, he lands right on top of his father's face hard. She don't got it, but he's okay!

The Statue of Liberty itself, however, begins to...deflate?! Going out like a big inflatable bouncy house, leaving the spectators and eventually the rest of world in bewildered chaos.

Word spreads quickly, with news outlets across the globe buzzing with the day's biggest story. "This just in—history has been made right before our eyes as the Statue of Liberty, one of America's most iconic landmarks, has been stolen! Replaced by a giant inflatable replica," announces a news anchor, his voice laced with disbelief.

The broadcast cuts to footage of American police and Pro Heroes swarming the scene. They stand around the deflated inflatable, some trying futilely to re-inflate the fake statue. It's a slow, almost comical process, with the massive replica stubbornly refusing to rise.

The anchor's voiceover continues, "Authorities are baffled by this audacious crime. Who could have done this? How could we let this happen? What kind of villain would and could pull off such a brazen act? And perhaps most importantly, why?"

He continues, "There is panic all over the globe as countries and citizens try to protect their beloved landmarks from whoever villain that did this." The TV screen shifts to scenes from around the world—French police and Pro Heroes with Quirks at the ready, standing guard at the Eiffel Tower; Australian authorities securing the Sydney Opera House, their eyes scanning the skies for any sign of danger.

"Everyone is asking the same question: Who is this new, daring villain? And what will they do next?"

---

Izuku Midoriya strolled through the park with a serene smile on his face, his grey scarf with black trim fluttering gently in the breeze. His outfit was sleek and clean—all black, from his tailored pants to the polished shoes and the long trench coat, its zipper pull shaped into a sharp, custom-designed letter 'D'. But do not let his average looking face and his chill demeanor fool you, however! He is not the friendliest person to meet. In fact, he's not even a good person at all! And you're about to see how.

He continued on his way until a small, pitiful sound reached his ears—a child's sobbing. Izuku paused, tilting his head slightly as he observed the scene. A little boy clutching a cone, with tears streaming down his face as the remnants of his dropped ice cream lay splattered on the pavement.

With a dramatic sigh, Izuku knelt down, feigning sympathy. "Oh, poor thing," he cooed, his voice honeyed but hollow. From inside his coat, he pulled out a balloon and began to inflate it with exaggerated effort, the child's tear-filled eyes widening in curiosity.

Izuku worked with precision, twisting and shaping the balloon until he presented it to the boy with a flourish—a colorful balloon animal. The child's face lit up with joy, and for a moment, the air was filled with laughter instead of tears.

Izuku watched with a faux endearing smile, letting the child revel in his happiness. But just as quickly as the joy had come, Izuku snatched it away.

POP!

With a quick, sharp motion, he produced a needle and popped the balloon right in the boy's face, leaving the child in shocked silence.

Without missing a beat, Izuku tossed the needle aside and, with such casualness, picked up the shocked child by the head. He 'neatly' set him aside on a nearby bench, the boy's wide, tear-filled eyes staring after him in traumatized confusion as Izuku continued on his way, not batting him an eye.

On this sunny day, Izuku walks into a coffee shop. When he sees a huge line of people, he is disappointed as a scowl crossed his face. Patience was not one of Izuku's virtues, but improvisation was. With a sly grin, he reached into his coat and pulled out a sleek, futuristic device—his Freeze Ray. He points the weapon at the people in line and fires. 

"Freeze ray! Freeze ray! Freeze ray! Hahaha!" Izuku laughs maniacally, squeezing the trigger. In an instant, beams of icy blue light shot out, hitting everyone in the line and even a few unsuspecting bystanders. Within seconds, the entire line was encased in solid ice, frozen in place with their expressions of shock and surprise captured like statues.

He sauntered up to the counter, where the shell-shocked barista stood frozen—not by his ray, but by sheer disbelief. With an audacious smile, Izuku plucked the steaming cup of coffee and the packaged muffin from the woman's hands. He even took the tip jar, too. And just like that, he's gone once again before the cops or pro heroes could even arrive!

Izuku Midoriya didn't have a regular job like other people, nor did he attend any hero academy like U.A. or Shiketsu. The reason was simple: he was quirkless. In a world where Quirks reined supreme, being born quirkless was unfortunate. Jobs were hard to come by, and the idea of becoming a Pro Hero was nothing but a cruel joke and Izuku has long since abandoned that dream. So, Izuku made a decision—if he couldn't be a hero, he'd become a villain. But not just any villain—a professional villain. Presentation mattered, after all. That's what separated a villain from a super-villain!

He drove around in a large, illegally permitted armored vehicle, despite being underage to drive. He carried a Freeze Ray and a variety of other dangerous gadgets, living the life of a villain with meticulous flair. Izuku had two homes: one, a secret lair located under a large pond in the middle of the woods, and the other, his current destination—a house that sat on a typical suburban street, though calling it typical would be...quite a stretch.

As he pulled up to the curb, his black, imposing house loomed over the neighborhood, sticking out like a sore thumb. Everything about it was dark—the roof, the siding, the door, even the lone tree in the front yard. It was as if the house itself rejected the notion of blending in.

Izuku stepped out of his vehicle, his mood already souring as he spotted his neighbor, Akira, waving at him from behind his own fence as he watered his plants. The man simply wanted to wish him a good day, but Izuku found the encounter exasperating. There was nothing inherently wrong with Akira, but to Izuku, he just finds other people's presence annoying in general.

"Hello, Mr. Midoriya!"
"Ugh. Hello, Akira."

He considered ending the conversation right there, but an idea formed in his mind—a way to ensure that Akira would think twice before engaging him again. With a theatrical sigh, Izuku approached his neighbor.

"Listen," he began, his tone deceptively friendly, "your dog has been leaving these little bombs all over my yard, and I don't like it." His fake smile widened, but there was a glint in his eye that didn't match the pleasantry of his words.

Akira laughed, oblivious to the underlying tension. "Ha! You know dogs! They go wherever they want to go!" He responded with a lighthearted wink.

"Unless they're dead." The words were delivered with such bluntness that it left Akira in stunned silence, his smile faltering as the weight of the statement sank in.

Izuku wheezed and burst into laughter, the sound echoing unnervingly in the quiet neighborhood. "Hahahaha! I'm joking!...mostly." His laughter tapered off, leaving an uncomfortable silence between them. Izuku gave a casual wave as he turned on his heel, finally dismissing his neighbor. "Anyways, have a good one!"

Akira's face was a mix of confusion and unease as he tried to recover, his smile now nervous and strained. "O-oh... Okay, uh, yeah, sure..." he stammered, clearly unsure of how to respond.

Izuku chuckled to himself as he entered his home, satisfied with the interaction. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless. He'd made his point, and with any luck, Akira would think twice before striking up another conversation.

Izuku walked through his living room, his coffee in one hand and a muffin in the other. A grin spread across his face as his eyes landed on the large TV mounted on the wall. He couldn't wait to see the news coverage of his latest scandal at the coffee shop. He could already imagine the headlines: "The notorious villain, Deku, strikes again!" Yes, again because he had been a villain for quite a while—two and a half years, to be exact. In that time, he had carved out a reputation for himself, becoming the notorious villain, Deku.

As Izuku approached his couch, he stopped short, flinching back in surprise. Sprawled out on the couch was his pet...dog, Chester, who looks like a cross animal hybrid between a chihuahua and a piranha. The villain nudged the dog lightly, trying to reclaim his seat. Chester opened one eye lazily, glaring at his master with mild annoyance before closing it again, clearly uninterested in moving. Deku frowned, nudging him again, this time with more force. Chester responded by snoring louder, making it clear he had no intention of budging.

Rolling his eyes, Deku used his foot to gently push the stubborn pet over to the other side of the couch. Chester finally relented, grudgingly shifting to make room. With a satisfied smirk, Izuku sat down and settled in, ready to enjoy his coffee and muffin while waiting for the latest broadcast of his infamous deeds. He sets his coffee on a cupholder beside him and was about to bite into his muffin before-

DING! DONG!

"Ah! You've got to be kidding me!" Deku rolled his eyes, groaning in frustration as the doorbell rang. He grudgingly got up, leaving his coffee and muffin behind, and stomped toward the front door. If it was Akira again, he swore he'd get rid of him permanently.

As he approached the door, carrying a large pickaxe slung over his shoulder, Deku peered through the peephole. What he saw confused him. It wasn't Akira, nor was it anyone else he recognized. Instead, there were three children standing on his doorstep. Two girls and one boy.

"Helloooo? Cookies for sale!" chirped the tallest girl, her voice full of enthusiasm. She had straight brown hair styled into pigtails, and wore a pink dress with dark pink overall straps and buttons over a black tank top.

The other two stood nervously behind her. The boy had curly, light brown hair, brown eyes, and a small patch of freckles in the middle of his face. He wore blue overalls with dark blue straps over a white T-shirt. The smallest girl had bluish, off-white hair, messy and unkempt, nearly reaching down to her waist. Deku noticed a small horn poking out from the right side of her forehead, suggesting she had a mutant-type quirk.

Had it been Akira, or any other adult—pro hero or law enforcement—Izuku wouldn't have hesitated to press the 'Trap Door' button conveniently located beside the doorframe. But these were just kids, scouts selling cookies. With a sigh, he relented. He was a villain, not a monster.

But still, Izuku was in no mood for visitors today, even if they were offering cookies. He decided to get rid of them the best way he could. "Er... Go away! I'm not home!" he called through the door, hoping they'd take the hint.

The tallest girl, proving herself to be the wittiest of the bunch, scoffed and replied, "Heh. Yeah, sure you aren't. Now open the door, mister, and talk to us like a mature adult!"

The nervous boy tried to soften the tension, his voice trembling slightly as he spoke up, "W-we just want to sell you some cookies," he said, offering the best smile he could muster.

Izuku sighed internally and decided to switch tactics. "I... er, am a ghost, WhooOOoo~" he said, articulating his voice, attempting to sound like a ghost.

"No, you're not," the tall girl shot back, unimpressed.

"YeEEsss, I aAAaam. Listen to this: LeeeEEAave this ProoOooperty...! Or—OW!"

Izuku's sentence was cut short as the door was suddenly kicked by the tall girl, who clearly wasn't going to tolerate any more of his antics. She rolled her eyes, turning to leave with the boy, both clearly exasperated by the encounter. But before they could go, the girl with the horn had one last thing to say.

"U-Um, g-goodbye, ghost-san...!" she stammered, her voice full of uncertainty.

"Eri, c'mon!" the tall girl called back, pulling her along.

After that encounter, Izuku returned to his couch, rubbing his temples in frustration. Damn brats...! he thought in annoyance. He sighed, ready to finally enjoy his muffin in peace, but as he approached the couch, he noticed something unsettling. "Huh?" he muttered, recoiling in surprise. Chester was no longer sprawled out on the couch.

Cautiously, Izuku picked up his packaged muffin, his eyes scanning the room for any sign of his pet. The room seemed eerily quiet, making him even more uneasy. Just as he was about to relax, Chester sprang out from behind a chair and sank his sharp teeth into the hand that held the muffin.

It took a moment for the pain to register, but when it did, Izuku's eyes widened in horror. "AHH! Chester!" he yelled, frantically flinging his arm around, trying to shake off the tiny terror. The more he struggled, the more determined Chester became, latching onto his other hand with equal ferocity.

"BAD DOG! NO! Noo! SIT!" Izuku screamed, trying to pry Chester off with his foot, but the pet was relentless. "OW! My muffin!" he wailed, as his prized snack was torn to shreds in the chaos.

Izuku's attempts to regain control were in vain as Chester clung to him like a piranha on a mission. The scene played out in a wildly exaggerated, animated fashion, with Izuku flailing around the room, his once-relaxing afternoon turning into a comedic struggle for dominance against his own pet. And in cartoon fashion, he didn't even get hurt.

The chaos was interrupted by the sudden flicker of his large TV screen, which came to life, revealing the familiar face of Dr. Nefario, Izuku's most useful companion.

Dr. Nefario, an old yet brilliant mad scientist, had been by Deku's side since the beginning of his villainous career. His sharp, calculating eyes peered through the screen, and his voice crackled with the weight of experience.

"Izuku," Dr. Nefario began, his tone as stern as ever.

Izuku, flustered and embarrassed by his current predicament, offered a nervous smile. Chester was still latched onto his right hand, but Izuku tried to play it cool. "Ah, Dr. Nefario...!" he greeted, attempting to mask the absurdity of the situation. "What's wrong, Doctor?" he asked, as if nothing was amiss.

The old scientist cleared his throat, the sound crackling through the speakers. "Firstly, I wanted to congratulate you on successfully pulling off that heist last week. Good job." Dr. Nefario's praise was rare, and it caused Izuku's face to light up with pride.

"Of course! It made it onto national news, after all!" Izuku exclaimed, his chest swelling with pride.

"Secondly," Dr. Nefario continued, "I've found the location of that last component we need to execute our grand plan."

Izuku's eyes widened in surprise. "You have?" he asked, leaning in closer to the screen.

The scientist nodded with a smirk, "Yep. It's your call."

Izuku's mind raced as he considered the possibilities, a determined look slowly forming on his face. Finally, with a burst of energy, he made his decision. "Assemble the Minions!" he declared, the room filling with an air of excitement and anticipation.

With a quick flick of his arm, Izuku sent Chester flying onto the couch, the small hybrid pet landing with a harmless thud.

Deku shuts off the television with a decisive click, his mind racing with anticipation. He quickly grabs his trademark tech goggles from a nearby table and runs toward the large steel chair that dominates the room. The chair is adorned with a menacing devil head, eerily resembling an evil version of All Might. The sight of it brings a wicked grin to Deku's face as he sits down and presses a button on the armrest's remote control.

He sits down and immediately presses a button on the remote control built into the chair's arm rest. He is pushed forward, and a cannon hanging from the ceiling rotates and faces him. The cannon comes down and surrounds Deku, forming an elevator that leads to an underground lab.

As Deku is lowered into the underground lab, he spots a minion holding a hammer, about to nail something into place. Deku narrows his eyes and barks, "Minions, assemble!"

The minion freezes mid-swing, his goggles reflecting the determination in Deku's voice. "Oke, oke!" the minion responds, dropping the hammer and leaving his companion, who's still holding the nail in place. As he turns back to follow orders, the minion accidentally hits his partner squarely on the head with the hammer. "Argh! Ah! Ahhh!" The injured minion screams, clutching his head in exaggerated pain as the other minion slides down a pole and begins yelling in their garbled language, "EEEH! MATALARAKI MATALOKO, BIG BOSS!!!"

Within moments, the lab erupts into organized chaos as the minions flood in from every direction. The lab, already bustling with activity, becomes a sea of yellow and blue, each minion scurrying about with purpose. They come in all shapes and sizes, some with one eye, some with two, but all of them share the same unwavering devotion to their leader.

Izuku strides through the lab, barely containing his excitement. The place is enormous, a labyrinth of steel and machinery, with countless workstations humming with activity. There's a minion break room where a few are playing cards, a minion gym where others are lifting tiny weights, and even a minion water cooler where two are deep in animated conversation. The minions have a whole world down here, all dedicated to serving their boss.

Passing it all by, Deku heads straight for the stage he has set up for his speeches. In a matter of minutes, all the minions have gathered. When Deku walks up onstage, they can't contain their excitement. Applause and whistles echo throughout the underground base/lab.

The minions' chanting fills the air, a rhythmic "Deku! Deku! Deku! Deku!" that echoes through the underground base, amplifying the excitement of the moment. The lab is abuzz with their energy, each one of them brimming with anticipation.

Deku looks out at the sea of yellow, his grin widening. This was his army, his loyal followers, ready to follow his every command. His minions. Who or what they are and where the hell did they come from? Izuku has no damn clue. But he didn't care. All that mattered was that they were his, serving him unconditionally, backing him up through thick and thin, even during the times he didn't want their help. Their loyalty was undeniable, and though he rarely showed it, Izuku was eternally grateful.

Walking out with a grandiose swagger, Deku raises both arms high, flashing a peace sign with each hand. He moves through the crowd with ease, greeting some of his minions as he goes. "How's it going, everyone? Good? Hell, yeah! Looking good there, Kevin! New haircut, James? Nice! Whaddup, Jerry!"

The minions beam at his words, their excitement only growing as Deku makes his way to the center of the stage. A lone spotlight illuminates him, casting a bright glow that highlights his confident stance. He pauses for a moment, soaking in the adoration, before addressing the room.

"Hello, everybody!" Deku's voice booms across the lab, a genuine smile stretching across his face as he takes in the sea of eager faces. The minions cheer louder, their energy feeding into his own.

The minions explode with more cheers and screams. It's like a rock concert. "Deku! Deku" they continue to chant. "Alright, alright. Quiet down, quiet down! Thank you." Deku says. Finally, the minions quiet down. Deku takes a deep breath and makes an announcement: "Now, I know you heard the rumors! That I don't have what it takes to be a villain, saying that 'I'm too much of a softie' and stuff like that." Deku mocks and then continues. "But am I upset by these rumors? No, I am not!" he says confidently, striking a pose that exudes self-assurance.

Deku continues, pacing the stage with a swagger. "Because, we've had a pretty good year ourselves, and you guys are all right in my book!" A roar of applause erupts from the minions, their enthusiasm filling the air. Feeding off their energy, Deku shouts, "So! What did we do? Well, we stole the Statue of Liberty! So give yourselves a round of applause! Congratulations on making onto national news!" He gestures to the side, where the iconic statue suddenly lights up, having been conveniently placed beside the stage. The large screen behind Deku flashes to life, showing the New York City skyline conspicuously missing its famous statue, revealing and confirming that he was, indeed, the one who stole it.

"Wa-hoo!" The minions cheer, their excitement reaching a fever pitch. Deku basks in their adoration, his grin widening as they celebrate their most audacious heist yet. He 'conveniently' leaves out the fact that they also snagged an Eiffel Tower display from a Paris-themed casino in Los Angeles, but that's a story for another day.

"Anyways, " continues Deku . He motions to his chief scientist, Dr. Nefario, a bald man with very large goggles and even larger ears. He wears a white lab coat and black rubber gloves. "Thanks to the efforts of our very own Dr. Nefario," says Gru, "we have located our last needed component, the Shrink Ray ,in a secret lab." The minions go crazy as the huge screen displays the Shrink Ray. "Once we take this Shrink Ray, we will have the capability to top our last crime and execute our grand plan! We are going to steal...-"The minions go wild, cheering and clapping and starts whipping out their own weapons.

"Wait, wait!" shouts Deku. "I haven't told you what it is yet!" ZOOSH! One minion shoots a rocket off into the air and hits on a crowd beside the stage. "Hey, Gary," Deku says with a glare, pointing to him. "Listen up, please!" The minion, Dave, hung his head in shame as he was hit in the arm by the minion he hit his rocket with.

Deku shakes his head and presses a button. The platform he's standing on begins to rise. "We are going to steal—pause for effect—the moon!" When his platform reaches its highest peak, he pushes another button, and a panel in the ceiling opens up, revealing the moon.

"And once the moon is mine, the world will give me whatever I want to put it back. And I will be the greatest villain of all time!!!" He grandiosely declared as his minions continue to cheer for him. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Q&A Time:

I never expected my fic to be so popular. When I first had this idea, I thought 'You know what? It's an idea so crazy, it might just work!' And look where I'm at!

Combining the views I gained from both Ao3 and Wattpad, that's a total over over 80k people! 80K READERS! I know that may not seem like much, but it means a lot to me.

Seriously, that's over 80k people who viewed my story, that's fucking crazy! I just can't wrap my head around it!

Seriously, I can't thank you all enough! This, as well as your comments had really motivated me to keep on writing. 

Anyways, it's Q&A time!

Why did you decide to read my fic?

What did you like about it?

What separates my Villain!Deku from other Villain!Deku fics?

What did you like about this version of Izuku? What separates him from the other villain Izukus?

What are your favorite parts?

What are our favorite characters?

Please, feel free to tell me or ask me anything! And I'll try my best to answer most of them!

Chapter Text

After weeks of meticulous preparation, countless stumbles, the occasional explosion, and, of all things, accidentally acquiring a child, Izuku Midoriya had finally begun his grand operation: stealing Tokyo Tower.

"Huff... huff... huff...!"

Right now, the most wanted teenager in Japan was sprinting across the top floor of Tokyo's largest news station, his boots clanging against the metal staircase as he ascended toward the roof. Sirens blared through the halls, alarms wailing both inside the building and across the city outside.

Down below, chaos rippled through Tokyo. Shoppers, commuters, businessmen, everyone stopped in their tracks as every massive electronic billboard and neon screen across Shibuya and Shinjuku fizzled out in static...then blinked back on. Not with ads or scheduled broadcasts, but with the unmistakable messy mop of green hair and freckled face of him.

The villain who'd gone silent for weeks, vanishing after his rampage of bizarre crimes. The boy who'd firebombed hero agencies, robbed banks, and ransomed Mustafu's water supply with a giant ice grenade as the public presumed. The one society both loathed and couldn't stop watching.

Deku.

Gasps spread like wildfire. People froze mid-step. Phones whipped out to record. Some panicked. Some cheered. Others whispered nervously, knowing that if Deku appeared like this, it meant something insane was about to happen.

Even the pro heroes stationed across the city didn't immediately rush to intercept. They'd learned from Endeavor's mistakes. No one wanted to charge in recklessly and end up in a trap or worse, part of another one of Deku's career-ending memes. Instead, they waited tensely, eyes locked on the countless screens now broadcasting the boy.

And there he was...fidgeting with a camera tripod, muttering under his breath, trying to adjust the angle.

"Uh—hello? This thing on?" Izuku tapped the lens with a finger. His face was way too close to the camera, nose squishing against it.

The entire city sweat-dropped.

He leaned back, coughed, then straightened his jacket, trying very hard to look serious. "Ahem! Right. It is on. Good." He threw back his shoulders and raised his arms dramatically, his voice booming through every speaker in the district.

"Citizens of Tokyo!" he declared, his attempt at intimidation wobbling somewhere between villainous grandeur and a kid doing a school presentation. "It is I...Deku!"

The crowd on the streets blinked.

Some tried to hide their chuckles. Others rolled their eyes. And especially Deku's unbelievably real fanbase were already stifling laughter.

Only Deku would hijack every screen in the city just to introduce himself in the most cliché Saturday-morning-cartoon-villain way possible. Which was, of course, followed up by a cliché cartoon villain monologue.

Izuku spread his arms wide, pacing in front of the camera like a self-important stage actor.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Tokyo! Heroes, villains, citizens, and bored salarymen after work, lend me your ears! For too long, you've lived boring, predictable lives! Commute, work, sleep, repeat! Ugh, snooze-fest! But today—oh-ho-ho, today—you get to witness something spectacular. Something that will shake this country to its core!"

He jabbed a finger toward the camera, his eyes glinting with manic delight. "I, Deku—the quirkless menace, the soon to be world's greatest villain, the 'personification of shock and awe' your media keeps raving on about, have returned! And today, I shall commit...the greatest heist in Japanese history!"

His voice cracked at the end, but he powered through, chest puffed out as though he'd just declared war on God.

On the streets, people had stopped moving entirely. Conversations went silent. Phones streamed. A few laughed at the overblown dramatics but nobody looked away.

Elsewhere...

In a dim apartment, a muted TV flickered. Inko Midoriya's glazed eyes focused for the first time in weeks. She was half-sunk into the couch, dried up tears, an empty bottle in her hand, but her grip slowly loosened as she sat forward. Onscreen, she watched on in guilt and self-loathing of her son-turned-villain spewing theatrics and chaos on the news once again.

Her breath hitched. "...Izuku..."

In the Bakugou household, Katsuki sat rigid on the couch, eyes glued to the living room TV. The explosive blonde didn't blink. Didn't even breathe.

Just stared intently with his fists clenched.

Inside his apartment, All Might looked on in deep regret at what Izuku had become. What he was driven to do. Because All Might pushed him to it. His gaunt frame leaned forward, hollow eyes narrowing at the popular villain.

By now, he and Nezu and the rest of the U.A staff had figured out that 'Felonius Gru' that had aced the entrance exam was simply Izuku in disguise. And he had gone through all that effort just to be so petty that no one could place the top spot and to prove a point. All might remembered the ruthless, cutting words the boy had told him after the exam.

"He should've kept his damn mouth shut."

All Might clenched his fists. "Young Midoriya..." he whispered.

Back on every screen in Tokyo, Izuku spread his arms dramatically again.

"You see, I'm not here for money. I'm not here for power. I'm here for fun! For chaos! For the love of the game! And to prove that this quirk-obsessed society can't stop someone like me!" He leaned in, grinning wide. "And so, to commemorate my glorious return, I've decided to steal something very...special."

His smirk widened, every syllable dripping with smug glee.

The camera angle shifted just slightly, and for the first time the viewers realized where he was standing. Looming behind him, framed in the shot like a stage prop, was the great Tokyo Tower.

Murmurs and gasps erupted all across the city.

And then...it began to glow.

Blue light pulsed across its steel skeleton, brighter and brighter, until it became a blinding beacon that swallowed Izuku's figure in shadow. On the screens, all that could be seen was his silhouette, a boy-shaped void standing tall against the light.

Someone in the crowd could've sworn someone just whispered excitedly, 'Holy aura!'

And then the light was gone.

The skyline was empty.

Tokyo Tower had vanished.

Shock rippled through the entire city and everyone who's watching this spectacle unfold.

But Izuku wasn't done.

His video wasn't cut out and he suddenly had a microphone in his hand.

While the heroes began to act, everyone in the city watching murmurs in confusion. People watching the news outside Tokyo watches intensely, comments were flooding on internet posts and streams about this event.

Everyone was wondering what the infamous Deku is about to do.

 Suddenly, an unexpected noise blasted through...well, nobody knows where, but everyone in the city could hear it. Phones, car radios, even mall P.A. systems. It was like the entire city had become his concert venue because the sound of upbeat music was heard throughout the entirety of Tokyo city. News outlets are already buzzing about all this.

Song: 'Without me' by Eminem.

Two trailer park girls go round the outside; round the outside, round the outside~! Two trailer park girls go round the outside; round the outside, round the outside~!

"Huh? Where's that music coming from?"

"What's going on?"

"WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW?!"

"Why is Eminem playing  throughout the entre city?"

"I mean, I ain't complaining! I love me some Eminem!"

"What's Deku doing?"

"Oh. Em. Gee. Don't tell me he's about to fucking perform a show for us covering an Eminem song!"

"Bro, is Deku throwing a concert?!"

"Yo, he IS crazy!"

Reactions very between people beginning to vibe to the song itself, some already even started dancing, confused murmurs of people and pro heroes alike, hyped up comments and social media posts, or parents trying to cover their children's ears...even though they were rocking to the song as well.

Guess who's back? Back again! Shady's back! Tell a friend!

Guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back, guess who's back na-na-na~....

Back on the screens, everyone sees as Izuku begins speaking into his microphone as the intro of the song continued. "Well, I'm sure you all., especially my fans, have been wondering where I'm at these past few weeks and, well, as you can see, I've been plotting for exactly this!"

Izuku cleared his throat, and just as everyone expected, he began to rap along the song. "🎵I've created a monster, cause nobody wants to see Marshall no more, they want Shady, I'm chopped liver!🎵" He performed. Jumping, gesturing, spinning on his heel like some kind of chaotic ringmaster. The crowds on the streets roared in hypes that reached newfound heights.

And with that, Pro heroes and police officers all around the city was on chase and enroute toward Izuku's location while everyone else just witnessed this spectacle unfold while music blared in the background.

Well if you want Shady, this is what I'll give ya. A little bit of weed mixed with some hard liquor! Some vodka that'll jump start my heart quicker than a shock when I get shocked at the hospital by the doctor when I'm not co-operating when I'm rockin the table while he's operatin (hey!!)

All Might simply looked on the news channel with the most blank, uncertain expression on his face. This was certainly not what he had expected to see in his afternoon, especially as what had happened today earlier during their U.S.J trip...

Bakugou sweat-dropped as he looked at the television with the most bewildered expression on his face. 'I knew he was a nerd but...wow.' He thought, his brow twitching.

You waited this long, now stop debating cause I'm back, I'm on the rag and ovu-lating I know that you got a job Ms. Cheney, but your husband's heart problem's complicating

Some U.A student wearing glasses tried to warn and tell off civilians nearby him in the most rigid, cartoonishly righteous way to not let the villain's so-called 'brainwashing techniques' or 'villain propaganda' to influence them. Only for the people around him to just look at him oddly, giving him an awkward side-eye.

People looked at him like he was that one guy in a party who rambling on about the 'rules' and 'respecting property' while nobody's listening. The young teenager was absolutely bewildered to see the people around him be so...casual about this. Excited even.

When people were excited to see hero and villain fights, they're usually cheering for the heroes to win. This time, it was different. The people were excited. But not to see the hero winning.

Truly, how the turns have tabled.

Izuku continued rapping, although he began to put his own spin on the song as well. "🎶So the HPSC won't let me be or let me be me, so let me see! They try to shut me down here in Tokyo city but it feels so empty, without me!🎶" At this point, a lot of people down on the streets were just dancing or vibing to the music like it was some kind of free concert as they watch Deku just lose himself in the moment as the camera circled around him like it was a real concert.

Eventually, the pro heroes arrived to the roof that Izuku was on. Those with flight abilities began to zero in on the young villain. Seeing this, Izuku suddenly snapped his fingers, causing a barrage of fireworks to erupt all around him both in the air and on the ground, disorienting the heroes.

Izuku continued on with the last parts of the verse. "So, come on and dip, rum on your lips, fuck that, cum on your lips, and some on your tits and get ready, cause this shit's about to get heavy-" Instead of following through with the real lyrics, Izuku decided to follow through with his own real feelings."-I just settled all my lawsuits, FUCK YOU INKO!"

The real Inko Midoriya watching this couldn't help have her eyes wide in shock hearing what her son had just said so proudly while showing the camera the middle finger.

 Meanwhile, Izuku bowed to the camera. "Welp, I'd love to keep performing for you all, but I gotta dip! Hope you enjoyed my little show~!" With that, he ran toward and beyond the camera, tripping it over and causing the people to see the last few images of Izuku running away before the camera goes static and off.

As the heroes regained their senses, Izuku ran and took a faithful leap off of the tall ness station building while the music still blared throughout the city.

Now this looks like a job for me, so everybody, just follow me cause we need a little controversy, cause it feels so empty, without me! I said this looks like a job for me, so everybody, just follow me cause we need a little controversy, cause it feels so empty, without me!

As he fell, Izuku's backpack then transformed into a jetpack. The young villain quickly activated it and recovered in the air. As he recomposed himself, he suddenly heard somebody screaming out his name in anger.

"DEKUUU!!!" Roared the voice of Deku's supposed 'rival', Endeavor, flying through the streets and coming straight at the green-haired villain.

"Well, well, well." Izuku faced the flaming hero and grinned confidently and smugly. "If it isn't the world's angriest hero! Whaddup, you overgrown matchstick! Long time no see!"

"YOU'RE NOT GETTING AWAY FROM ME THIS TIME!!!" Endeavor proclaimed, sounding angrier this time.

Izuku laughed, his hands on his hips, jetpack engines roaring behind him. "Yeah, sure! Every time you say that, it always ends up with, lo and behold, me getting away, as usual!" He laughed.

"You gotta find a new line, buddy!" Izuku taunted one last time.

And with that, the chase began.

Jets of flame cut through the skyline, painting the night orange as Endeavor blazed hot on Deku's tail with other flying pro heroes attempting to keep up with their speed. Izuku zig-zagged through the air, his jetpack roaring while his manic laughter echoed through the city streets where people watched the chase in entertainment.

"RUN ALL YOU WANT, VILLAIN!" Endeavor bellowed, fury lighting every word. "You can't hide from me this time!"

Izuku turned mid-flight, flying backward just to grin at him. "Sure, buddy! Like all the other times I 'couldn't run away from you'!"

He spun around again, shooting through narrow gaps between buildings as the pursuing flames scorched past street signs and traffic lights. The sirens below wailed, pro heroes were on his trail, and yet Deku was still laughing like it was all part of a game.

Izuku twisted in midair, spotted a hydrant below, and smirked. With a quick flick of his wrist, he fired a blast from his freeze ray. The hydrant instantly froze solid just as Endeavor blasted past.

BOOM!

The hydrant exploded, spraying a geyser of icy water that hit Endeavor dead-on, dousing his flames in an instant. Steam exploded around him as his roar of rage echoed through the streets.

Izuku nearly fell out of the sky laughing. "AHAHA! You good down there? You looked like you needed to cool off! Fire safety, buddy! it's important!"

Steam hissed around the hero as he reignited, gritting his teeth and blasting forward again. "You think this is a game, you little—"

"Oh, it definitely is!" Izuku interrupted with a smug grin, soaring higher into the air. "And you're losing!"

He banked hard left, diving low over the city canal and under a massive bridge. Meanwhile, hidden beneath that same bridge, a group of giggling yellow gremlins, his ever loyal minions, were painting the finishing touches on their masterpiece: a perfectly realistic tunnel on the wall. They were snickering like cartoon maniacs as they admired their work.

"Muka! Muka! Deku coming! Deku coming!" One of them squeaked, pointing as Izuku zipped toward them and quickly hoisted them up along with him.

"Ahh, great work, boys!" Izuku grinned, flying just above the bridge. "Now watch and learn!"

The minions dove for cover as Endeavor came screaming in from behind, flames bursting from his feet. The man saw the "tunnel" at the end of the bridge, smirked, and muttered, "Nowhere left to run!"

Then—

BOOM!

"Oof!" Endeavor hit the wall at full speed. The "tunnel" peeled away like a sticker, leaving a massive, dent in the concrete shaped suspiciously like Endeavor's face. It was something straight out of a cartoon.

It was made even worse when literally beside Endeavor's lying body, a literal wallpaper of the Road Runner was right beside the 'tunnel'.

For a few silent seconds, nothing moved. Then, a single minion that was on Izuku's shoulder let out a snort.

"Pfff...bwahahaha!"

That was all it took. The entire minion crew broke down in hysterics, holding onto their stomachs and kicking their tiny legs while pointing at the befallen flame hero.

High above, Izuku had to clutch his stomach mid-flight with his one free hand, wheezing with laughter. "OH MY GOD—HAHA! HE ACTUALLY FELL FOR IT! HAHAHAHA!"

Down below, a groggy, blackened Endeavor stumbled up off the ground with teeth grinding loud enough to crack.

"...I hate that kid." He muttered.

The moment his fiery face hit concrete was caught perfectly in 4K by every camera and news helicopter in a five-mile radius. Within minutes, the internet was ablaze, not with flames, but with memes and laughter.

Soon after this day, clips of the No.2 hero crashing into a fake tunnel were already clipped and looped endlessly across social media. Edits were already popping up with cartoon "meep meep!" sound effects and a clip of Deku laughing dubbed over Looney Tunes music.

"HE FELL FOR THE ROADRUNNER TRICK! HE REALLY DID!" one streamer shouted between fits of hysterical laughter.

And the most prominent one in a laughing fit were none other than a brother of the Todoroki household.

"Pfft—HAHAHAHAHAHA! NO WAY THAT JUST HAPPENED!" Natsuo wheezed from the couch, kicking his legs and slapping his knee as the replay looped on the TV as even the newscasters all around struggled to hold in their laughter. "He actually crashed into it! HAHA! I'm saving this forever!" He was so going to make sure his pops was never going to live this down!

"Grchk-!" Natsuo laugh and enjoyment was amplified when he heard Shoto beside him snort and covering his mouth trying (and failing) to conceal his own laughter. Truly, he was wanting to meet with Deku more and more. As a fan and a friend. Besides, Deku had already singlehandedly changed how he had viewed the quirkless.

Shoto wanted to thank him despite knowing how confused Deku would be for what he would be thanked for. Shoto was even more amused thinking about that scenario as he began to chuckle more.

"..." Beside them, their sister, Fuyumi, stared at her two brothers with a concerned and conflicted expression. She didn't know if it was right to laugh at their father's humiliation, but she was at least glad that Shoto had been more expressive and actually seemingly happy lately...even if it was because of this.

In a dark alleyway, a tall, pale, man with spiky black hair who had purple burned skin all over watched the news on his phone, witnessing not only Deku's performance and escapade, but also the most hilarious and cartoonish way Endeavor failed.

He still wasn't entirely sure what to think of Deku in general as well as his 'rivalry' with Endeavor. Admiration? Gratitude? Jealousy? He didn't know, but those kinds of feelings were definitely felt around Deku. But a feeling he was certain about was that he felt happy. Because at the end of the day, any way that Endeavor was humiliated was a win in his book.

And so, an amused grin formed upon his gnarly and disfigured mouth. "Heh."

While Izuku was still in a laughing fit, he failed to notice a certain winged hero quietly blitz up right behind him. "Looks like you're having way too much fun there, buddy."

"Grck!" Izuku widened his eyes in shock as he whipped his head around to see a large feather sword coming straight at his back. Acting quickly, the minion on Izuku's jetpack took the hit and he instead was the one who was sent flying.

"Aaaaaahhh!" Screamed the one-eyed minion in the air.

"JAMES!!!" Izuku shouted, reaching a hand out dramatically as his faithful minion disappeared into the air.

"Those...minions of yours have names, huh? I'm surprised you know them all."

Izuku quickly shook his head and refocused on the matter in front of him. "Ah, Hawks! We meet again!" He said with a shaky grin as he sees both Hawks and a recovered and angry looking Endeavor stand before him.

Now he was beginning to get a little worried as he was now up against both the No.2 and No.3 Pro Hero of Japan.

"Enough games, Deku!" Endeavor shouted beside Hawks, his flames igniting hotter than ever.

He scratched the back of his neck with a shaky laugh. "Ah...well, this is awkward. No.2 and No.3? I feel honored, really. I didn't think I was that popular."

Hawks snorted on both bewilderment and amusement. "You literally just stole a national monument and made a whole show about it."

Izuku merely let out a simple chuckle as his two minions pulled out both their weapons from seemingly nowhere. A gatling gun and a whole bazooka. The sight caused both Hawks and Endeavor to raise befuddled brows, but quickly then got into a battle stance themselves.

Izuku also pulled out his own weapon, his trademark Freeze Ray, and aimed it at the two heroes with a smirk. "Well then, gentlemen, shall we make this interesting?"

Meanwhile, back at the scene of the heist...

The plaza where Tokyo Tower once stood was a crater of confusion. News drones hovered overhead, heroes barked into comms, civilians buzzed with disbelief. No one noticed the faint pop! of a small marble rolling out from a nearby alleyway until an extravagantly dressed figure stepped out.

Mr. Compress tipped his hat to no one in particular and strolled into the open street as if he were simply part of the show. Although people did eye at him due to his attire, the people in general were still in a rave about the whole show that the infamous villain Deku had just put up for them all.

And beneath his mask, Mr. Compress couldn't help but let out the most proud and excited smile he's ever made. If there was any doubt that still lingered about choosing to follow a brilliant, popular, dramatic, ridiculous, controversial, and probably mentally unstable fifteen year old genius inventor teenager, they were all now gone.

He knew he chose right.

Mr. Compress remembered asking the boy what he really planned to do with the tower after he stole it, which caught Izuku off-guard since he stated that he didn't really think about that. It bewildered the magician. Because Deku? Not planning ahead? That was odd.

Izuku's answer was more absurd than he realized, yet very fitting for him: "Honestly, I have no use for it. I'm just simply doing it out of principle!"

Mr. Compress had never let out such a baffled and hearty laugh before. A villain who staged grand larceny purely for the drama of it? There was something beautifully old-fashioned about that.

He shook his head. That was a hilarious and fond memory.

But this wasn't over.

Now, it was time to initiate the last phase of the operation now that they have the Tokyo Tower: Help his leader escape.

Mr. Compress put the marble that he had the Tokyo Tower encased in inside his pocket as he began to pick up his pace, but not too much as to look suspicious.  He was walking toward the nearby abandoned local music store they used as according to keikaku. Once going inside, he sees Excavator giving him a thumbs up, granting the signal that everything was ready.

With that, Compress pulled up his phone and pressed a button that was sent to Izuku.

*Beep!*

Izuku heard the ding of his phone in his pocket but couldn't do much as he was currently flying all about in the air, trying with all his might to shake off both Endeavor and Hawks who were giving him a hard time escaping.

Even if Izuku couldn't check his phone, he knew what it meant. Now, his only goal right now was purely escaping before more pro heroes arrive.

But he was having a hard time, which both annoyed and worried him. He supposes that he should've expected something like this as he was up against two top ten pro heroes after performing such a heist. 

Izuku was struggling as every time he tried to escape, he was cut off by either fireballs or a barrage of flying feathers.

Tch! Izuku scowled. As if he wasn't already caught between a rock and a hard place, his two minions he had carried with him was of little help. The one with the minion-sized gatling gun was missing every sho-

*BOOM!*

"Argh!" Hawks groaned in pain as he was hit and knocked back by a large explosion made by a homing missile fired by the minion on Izuku's jetpack.

Izuku blinked and immediately took back those words. Huh. Guess, I spoke too soon.

From below, Endeavor roared, his body igniting into a blazing inferno. The air shimmered and warped around him as he thrust both arms forward and unleashing a torrent of blinding fire straight at the young villain.

Izuku acted quickly, jerking up his Freeze Ray and cranking the dial to its absolute limit. The weapon whined violently in protest before he pulled the trigger, a massive column of icy blue energy roaring forth to clash against Endeavor's blazing inferno.

Now, they were in a stand-off - an epic sight of a battle between ice and fire, causing the air around them to be erratic and the people watching this through the news to be in awe. Izuku knew that despite the power of his Freeze Ray, it wasn't going to last too long against a literal walking, talking sun.

He needed to come up with a plan. Quick.

But thankfully, the opportunity presented itself, even if Izuku didn't know it himself.

"Deku! Look out!" The minion on Izuku's jetpack warned in it's high-pitched voice. Turning his head back, Izuku saw a figure in white and brown coming right at him.

"I got ya now, kid!" shouted a fierce, prideful voice that belonged to Mirko, the Rabbit Hero who had her leg coiled back like a loaded spring as she launched herself right at him from a nearby rooftop.

"Wha—?!" Izuku panicked, instinct taking over. He yanked hard on the controls and shot straight up just as Endeavor unleashed another blast of fire.

FWOOOOOSH!

The beam missed Izuku completely...and nailed Mirko instead.

"AHHH—!" she yelped, engulfed in flame before crashing through the side of a building with a smoking trail.

"Tch!" Endeavor didn't even apologize as he immediately scowled and glared at Izuku in anger.

In the Bakugou household, Katsuki's brow simply did a mere twitch as he saw his mentor be hit by a friendly fire.

Up in the sky, Izuku was breathing heavily, disoriented but alive. Then, slowly, a smug but shaky grin spread across his face. "Er...yep! Totally meant to do that! Hah!" He laughed proudly as if he he had planned on doing what he just did.

Seeing that there was window of exit, Izuku took the opportunity to hold onto his minions tight and set his jetpack to go as fast as possible. "Alright, Michael! Scott! Get ready 'cus we're about to go FAST!"

Izuku's jetpack revved up for a short moment, it's exhausts forming growing bubbles of energy until it finally blasted off like a rocket.

*VROOOOOM!!!*

Izuku was off and he was going almost as fast as prime All Might, shocking the pro heroes and the people watching. Hell, even the news copter was struggling to catch up.

"WOO-HOOOO!!!" The two minion that Izuku held howled out excitedly like children on a rollercoaster while Izuku's face comically stretched back, causing him to have a funny expression as he was not used to going this fast!

Meanwhile, inside the U.A. Development Studio, a different kind of chaos was taking place.

Mei Hatsume sat in the center of the room like a scientist possessed, having her legs crossed, notebook in one hand, popcorn bucket in the other as if this was some kind of movie, and her quirk zooming in and out of the school's projector screen like a high-powered microscope. The massive wall display showed live footage of Deku's high-speed chase through Tokyo, captured from a news chopper.

Her pencil flew across the page, sketching out blueprints faster than most people could think. "Jet propulsion system—custom model, zero-lag thrust stabilization—oh, that's beautiful! His power distribution efficiency must be at least three hundred percent above the industry standard! And look at that balance!"

Soon, Power-Loader entered the room and sputtered in shock of seeing his wild tech student appear mysteriously in class. He swore he just kicked her out a few moments ago!

"Hatsume! How did you-?! Why are you still here?! School ended an hour ago!" Power-Loader snapped at his student. "And why are you using the school projector?!"

"Oh, hush, sensei! A genius is at work right now!" She had the audacity to casually hush her own teacher, causing an annoyed tick mark appear on Power-Loader head.

"Don't hush me!" he snapped, stomping closer. "Do you even realize how many school rules you're breaking right now?!"

Mei's eyes were glued to the screen, shrugging off her teachers words as if they were mere inconvenience. "About six, I think. But look at the trajectory on that jetpack, sensei! He's breaking aerodynamic logic! Do you see that angle correction system? That speed?! I've been trying to perfect that for months! I'd sell my left pinky toe just to study that thing up close!"

Power Loader froze mid-rant, caught between outrage and reluctant intrigue. "...Wait, angle correction system?"

"Yup!" Mei turned to him, grinning ear to ear. "It's like watching a masterclass in anti-gravity propulsion! Honestly, Deku might be the only person alive who's as passionate about tech as me!"

Power Loader facepalmed. "Once again, he's a villain, Hatsume! I-....ugh. Why do I even try." He suddenly groaned in the end.

But Mei didn't care. She was, of course, paying attention to the wrong thing such as examining all of Izuku's tech instead of the fact that he had just somehow stolen a national monument. "Yeah, but he's a cool villain! And his designs are revolutionary! I mean, who else builds a functioning personal jetpack, a freeze gun, and probably tons of other amazing tech at fifteen?!"

Power-Loader groaned. "You're talking as if you want to actually meet the guy..."

"...Well..." Mei's eyes slowly went off to the side 'innocently'.

Power-Loader widened his eyes in shock beneath his helmet. "No way!"

Mei, for once, actually had the decency to be sheepish as she looked at her teacher in a bashful manner. "Maybe I just want to...talk...to him? About tech? And maybe ask for an internship?" She answered with a nervous smile.

Power Loader slammed his hands on his helmet. "Why do I even try...?"

Back in the skies above Tokyo, the chase had reached its breaking point.

Izuku could feel the strain in his chest as the jetpack began to sputter from overuse. The once-controlled bursts of propulsion were now erratic flames. He forced himself to ease up, slowing down just enough to stop the machine from tearing itself apart as well as to just control himself.

"Steady... steady..." he muttered, adjusting the throttle with twitchy precision. Behind him, Hawks and Endeavor as well as a horde of flying heroes were still in hot pursuit.

And then, Izuku saw it. The abandoned music store just a few blocks ahead, its shattered windows glowing faintly from the city lights. A grin spread across Izuku's face.

He yanked the throttle back to maximum and rocketed forward, sparks flying from the exhaust. A volley of gadgets deployed from hidden compartments in his pack with homing missiles spiraling backward, flares streaking across the sky, flashbangs exploding midair, and, because he couldn't resist, a few fireworks burst in glittering chaos.

The heroes behind him were forced to scatter. Hawks shielded his face with his feathers, while Endeavor growled through the smoke and light.

"Is he serious right now?!" One of the flying heroes yelled.

"HE'S MOCKING US!" Endeavor roared.

Meanwhile, Izuku was laughing his head off. "Hehehe! Sorry, boys! But this is where we part ways!"

He tossed a cluster of smoke bombs toward the store entrance, thick gray fog flooding the street. Then, with a theatrical flourish, he detached his jetpack.

*BOOM!*

The jetpack exploded midair, getting off the closest pursuing hero and forcing the heroes back once again.

"Sorry about this, you two! But I'm gonna need to use you both as a landing pad!" Izuku warned to which the two minions both yelped in assurance and enthusiasm. With that, Izuku plummeted toward the ground, holding his two screaming minions in front of him like crash cushions.

*Crash!*

Although Izuku landed surprisingly safe and intact in the ditch he made into the ground, his two minions were quick to be out cold while having funny faces. Izuku quickly recomposed himself and went inside the music store.

All the pro heroes and police who had caught up with the young villain were confused as to why Izuku had fled inside an abandoned music store, but they opted to act quickly as they would take this opportunity to finally catch Deku but were cautious as well if it was some kind of trap.

Detective Tsukauchi quickly exited his cop car with a door slam and quickly ordered for everyone to surround the complex through his megaphone. "All units! Surround the perimeter! Deku is inside! No one gets in or out without my signal!"

Pro heroes leapt onto nearby rooftops, weapons and quirks at the ready. The entire district was now crawling with law enforcement. Within seconds, every police and pro hero now presumably had Deku surrounded.

From above, news choppers circled like vultures, their spotlights sweeping over the old, crumbling building. Commentators spoke in urgent tones, and the world watched with bated breathes for what the infamous Deku would do next.

[TV NEWSCAST – JNN TOKYO LIVE]
"We are continuing to bring you live coverage of the Tokyo incident, where the infamous villain known as Deku has, against all odds, stolen the entire Tokyo Tower. And now, he's reportedly cornered inside an abandoned music store."

The anchor's voice was taut with disbelief.

"But look at this! Social media platforms are exploding with reactions. Millions are tuning in, flooding hashtags like #DekuTowerHeist and #TokyoTakeover. Some are calling him the 'Robin Hood of Chaos.' Others...well, they're just enjoying the show."

[INTERNATIONAL NEWS]
CNN JAPAN: "The fifteen-year-old quirkless criminal continues to defy logic, authority, and gravity."

BBC NEWS: "An unpowered boy versus Japan's top heroes—live, in real time. This is unprecedented."

AL JAZEERA: "The incident raises deep questions about Quirk-based discrimination and the idolization of hero culture."

[LIVESTREAM – HEROTWITCH CLIP #1]
A streamer wearing a headset and sunglasses was practically screaming. "Yo, chat, you seeing this?! He just juked Endeavor, Mirko AND Hawks?! Bro's playing real-life GTA: Tokyo Edition!"

[TIKTOK MONTAGE]
Quick edits of Deku's rap performance looped over the Without Me track—
Users danced, edited memes, or made fake reaction skits.
A popular comment flashed across the feed:

"He's a menace!"

"He's insane!"

"He's ICONIC."
#DekuDidNothingWrong 🔥 #QuirklessAndProud

Intentional or not, Deku had now become some sort of symbol for the quirkless.

[TWITTER/X FEED SCROLL]

Tweets flew by faster than anyone could read—

"This kid just clowned the No.1 and No.2 heroes in one day. Legendary."
"Society created Deku. Society can't handle Deku."
"Lowkey...I'm rooting for him."
"Bro really said 'steal your national monument' and did it."

[NEWSCAST – HPN HERO NETWORK]
The anchor sighed, shaking her head with both awe and disbelief. "Look at all the support Deku has throughout social media. Times have truly changed when the people of hero society have come to actually root for the villain. A quirkless villain, nonetheless."

Back at the base, the flickering glow of the television painted the dim walls in shifting light.
Kota sat cross-legged on the couch, eyes fixed on the screen. The live news feed blared Izuku's name over and over again — Deku this, Deku that, Deku cornered.

He tried to keep his face blank. He really did. But the longer he watched, the tighter his chest felt.

Even if he'd only been here for a few weeks by sleeping in a spare room filled with weird gadgets, eating meals surrounded by jabbering yellow creatures, and trying to ignore the chaos of villain life, Kota couldn't stop the worry creeping up inside him.

Because for all his bluster, all his ridiculous antics, Izuku wasn't like anyone else he'd met.

Even if Kota didn't want to admit it, he always felt as if Izuku was another person like himself. Someone who...understood him. He didn't know, but there was always this...certain feeling he had whenever he was was Izuku.

Besides, he had treated Kota well despite being an infamous villain. Of course he had done the bare minimum such as giving him his own space, food, clothes, ect. And he also was very strict when stating that he will NOT be taking Kota with him to initiate in heists or any kind of villain activity. But Kota found that Izuku also was...surprisingly emotionally aware.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself. He was confident, reckless, larger than life, and yet somehow still looked so tired when he thought no one was watching. Or maybe it was because, underneath all the manic laughter and danger, Kota could feel it. That same quiet kind of hurt. That same anger at the world that had left them both behind.

Izuku didn't pry into Kota's past, asked where or what happened to his parents, or why he had ran away in the first place. He never pushed him to talk about things that made him uncomfortable.